Mohave Chronicles 5: Expurgation (R)
by DisclosedBarrel
Summary: Sequel to Abrogation. Demigod & Dragonborn versus the last Horseman of the Apocalypse. Conquest. Legate Lanius was all that's left... During the final moments of the battle, Legate Lanius presses his attack on the N.C.R., starting with David and his team. This grudge match has been long overdue for over two hundred years. Ashford, Romanov, Savage, Richtofen... all must DIE!
1. Sarkis vs Conquest

LEGATE LANIUS (MONOLOGUE)

After a rousing fight at my camp's gates, I captured that Dragonborn and got to know her a little better. Almost broke a sweat if it wasn't for my bodyguards softening her up - it can be quite fun fighting someone doped up on psycho. The great bear marches through my camp as I speak, lead by a small team of lesser soldiers. Even in power armour, their blood will soak the sand for years to come, to mark their last moments of crippling demises, if not, defeat.

I am overflowing with joy as the famed General Redfield has finally come to my doorstep. Ready to battle. Eager to die. Joshua Graham failed his duties and suffered extreme consequences, but I promise the Legion that I will correct his mistakes and serve them until my dying breath... If I can brush off a Dragonborn's admittedly decent show of force, how hard could it be doing the same to a withered old man?

For the Legion!

Redfield fired at Lanius with everything his BAR could spit out, even though Lanius deflected his .308 rifle rounds, Redfield kept shooting. He couldn't land a good hit, but that never swayed him. Redfield's life depended on his suppression fire, and he was the only one up there to stall the legate.

Lanius charged at Redfield and swung his sword down at his face; he wasn't fast enough to land a strike on him. Redfield dived away and carried on shooting at him. The scuffle tore at his shoulder, but he was able to keep his gunfire focused while he got back on his feet.

Lanius closed the range to Redfield, spinning his sword exceptionally quick. With the speed Lanius moved his sword, he was able to deflect a few lucky shots back at Redfield. The rebound shots lacked the force yet were still able to stagger Redfield when they struck his chest.

In time he was weak enough for Lanius to kick down, it threw Redfield to the ground, landing awkwardly on his waist. Lanius unholstered his revolver and shot at Redfield's thigh. The weak section of his armour gave away, wounding him and putting him on one knee. Lanius refused to let the old man get up.

The blood loss was plentiful. Redfield clutched his suckling wound; the magnum round that went through his left thigh left a deep cavity. Lanius went to swing his sword at him. Redfield was able to block the blade, but Lanius' sheer strength broke straight through his BAR and held enough momentum to cleave into his left shoulder; the bloody pain hit him like a freight train. The tendon and collarbone split in half.

Redfield could only howl out the pain. The damned crude bumper sword left an open wedge on his shoulder, and if it weren't for his BAR, his sword would've cleaved him in two further down the middle. Redfield removed the bumper sword from his shoulder and forced Lanius back, throwing away the sword. Though it wasn't good enough, Lanius backhanded his face to the floor, leaving him battered on the ground.

Lanius scoffed, reclaiming his bumper sword. "Pathetic old man, standing in the way of progress. This Mojave is for the fiery younger generation; this is no place for old men."

"You're as delusional as Graham was." Redfield coughed and sputtered. "I may be old, but I will fight to my last breath!"

"This _is_ your last breath." Lanius grabbed Redfield by the ankle. "It's only natural it comes to this, General." He walked to the edge of the cliffside, holding Redfield over ledge upside down. He showed him the bleak world from the view of the cliffside. "The sight of the great General Redfield nailed to the Dam's walls ought to sway your weak-minded forces, wouldn't you say?"

Redfield coughed with disgust. "No comment."

"Pity." Lanius threw Redfield away from the cliffside behind him. "I don't want you going limp on me just yet, old man; I've been waiting for this special day for some time."

Redfield unsheathed Sally from his belt and unholstered Red Hare from the holster inside his jacket. He could barely stand. Like he was drunk, he had no control of his legs from the gaping hole in his thigh.

"I am anything but limp..."

"Just so you know, I beat that little Dragonborn friend of yours, so you better be worth my time." Lanius flexed his shoulders. "I'm rather enjoying myself."

Redfield lowered Sally and stood still, questioning himself. "Dragonborn? She really _was_ a Dragonborn... And you… you killed her?!"

Lanius shrugged, followed by a mocking stance. "Yes, I did; died like a little bitch. I had plans with her, but she bored me. Enough talk." He leapt into the air and slammed his sword into the ground with tremendous force; the shockwave threw Redfield off his feet while he was just getting Sally ready. Dust kicked up and curled all over the cliff.

With the clashing of their swords, from hooks, swings, hacks, slices and dices, Redfield held against Lanius's mix of speed and aggression. The swordplay mostly involved the two circling one another, chipping away the weapons and going for sneaky sweeps.

After some minutes of assessing Lanius' movements, Redfield could easily tear his foe into ribbons but to leave himself open for the slightest second wasn't worth the gamble. Lanius countered Sally's strikes and returned them even quicker whenever Redfield tried to thrust.

A kick Lanius delivered forced Redfield back a couple of steps, the strength of the boot was more so than the last, breaking a rib and robbing him of his breath. The blow took him back to his younger days. The feeling of pain was the only real way of feeling alive.

Lanius sheathed his bumper sword and unholstered two revolvers, exchanging bullets with Redfield while he was hobbling on his hind leg. Redfield only had six rounds compared to Lanius' ten, from that they shared the same calibre.

Long ago Red Hare would penetrate and pierce the thickest of armours, but the weaker .45-70 Gov't couldn't do the legendary magnum justice. Crafting .475 magnum just wasn't worth the time when the smaller rounds were more plentiful… That, and Lanius wore thicker armour than most combatants...

Before Redfield could come to a reload of his six-shooter, Lanius shot Red Hare clean from his hand; it flew straight off the ledge down below. Lanius discarded his revolvers and drew out two more. A shot rang out, and Redfield stumbled backwards, a bullet between the ribs. He lost his breath momentarily and his vision blurred. _You're dying Zachariah._

Bullets whistled and struck Redfield with remarkable accuracy. He howled and bled heavily with the large .45-70 Gov't rounds striking his chest, shoulders and legs, he couldn't even block them with Sally, and the shots he dared to reflect hit him anyway. Most shots would deflect away though this time he lacked the focus to do so, and instead they struck his body at the worst of times. The worst of places. His handling of Sally was neglected for years, and unfortunately, it showed.

The entire time Lanius mocked him if he was giving up or stating he expected more, in his cruel tone of nature - demoralising him to the greatest extent. Verbally and painfully. The echoing sounds of the large revolvers made Redfield hard of hearing.

A single round that struck his chest bled the worst of all, Redfield couldn't stop the blood from pouring out of him, it only narrowly missed his heart. It left a hole between the armour plates. He barely realised the situation of the fight he was losing as the high calibre rounds tore his flesh from his limbs. _Let me out, Zachariah._

"Giving up?" Lanius muttered. "It seems your reputation was highly exaggerated. For shame..."

Lanius discarded his set of revolvers and unsheathed his bumper sword, swinging it at Redfield's head. The blow struck the forehead of his helmet; breaking the lens and fracturing it down the middle.

Redfield felt the world inside his head crumble. The blow shattered his breathing apparatus to utter shit and launched his battered body to the dirt. Tossing and turning across the dust, he came to a bitter halt. He tried his very best to lift himself on his feet but succumbed to his wounds and thrived on the ground with his blood pouring from his wounds.

The fight ended as fast as it started. Lanius put away his weapons and took Sally into his hands and thoroughly examined the graceful blade. Leaving Redfield to bleed out to his accord, he suffered from organ damage, bone fracture and constant vomiting of the blood. Sally was art, and Lanius needed to examine it.

"What a beautiful weapon you have here, Redfield. Slim, double-edged and surprisingly very light for a one-handed longsword. If I didn't know better, this is the legendary longsword of Phobos himself, which means you're either a grave robber or the long exiled Sarkis."

Redfield choked bitterly. "H… How do you know that?!"

"I've been around long enough to recognise sigils when I see them," Lanius picked up Redfield by his ankle. "I'll take your weapon as a trophy, something to remember this glorious day. Time to die." Lanius heaved Redfield's body into the ground behind him and back over his head twice over, the impact chipped and fractured more and more of his armour and bones. Smashing into the ground wreaked havoc on Redfield's collarbone, spinal cord, his ankles and knees. The pain even destroyed parts of his mind and soul.

You're going to die if you don't let me out! the heavenly voice yelled inside Redfield's head,.

Lanius left Redfield on the ground. "Like your lord and saviour, crucifixion would fit you perfectly. I'll get a wooden cross from my camp. Don't go running off anywhere." Lanius chuckled, impaling Redfield's back with Sally, pinning him to the ground. Redfield barely moved. "Don't die on me, old man. I need you to send a message."

Lanius turned around and walked the other way, but something was amiss as he heard a voice. "You think you've won, Conquest?" said Redfield.

Unsure of, Lanius turned to see Redfield stood with Sally still unmoved in the ground. Through the broken mask, Redfield's eyes were seen. One gold, the other crimson...

"I have won. I defeated you, Redfield. What else do you possibly have left to throw at me?"

"That was Redfield you defeated," Redfield clarified in his unnaturally soft voice, "Not me..."

"What's the difference?"

Redfield fixed his cuffs. "I'll show you, Conquest." Redfield raised his head. "He's a mortal. _This_ is a Demigod."

"Sarkis... Killing you would be doing this troubled world a service."

"What have I done to stir your ire, Conquest?" Sarkis replied.

"It's bad enough you revealed yourself, only to die for your transgressions. I admire your bravery, however, it won't last."

Redfield held out his arm, and his hand lengthened to a sharp point that flew at Lanius. He growled, barely managing to deflect the strike that scraped his right shoulder. He went at Lanius again, and again, and he stumbled from each attack.

Lanius was able to deflect most projectiles with his superb reflexes, but most times it wasn't enough. The dark shards Sarkis fired was slick and sharp - tougher than his armour. Lanius had an idea; he wondered if Sally could cut through Redfield and his darkness.

Sarkis clicked his fingers and summoning flames in the palm of his other hand. He threw the fireball at Lanius, but it extinguished when it landed on his armour; the armour was fireproof. Then Redfield threw another, and another and then a full barrage followed through along with shards of pure darkness.

There was little time to act. Lanius unsheathed his bumper sword and spun it fiercely above his head where Redfield's barrage was descending from. The speed of his bumper sword caught and protected Lanius from the incoming fire; eventually, his blade started to melt. Lanius shook it off and charged at Redfield with full throttle, dodging the dark blurs that whizzed past him.

Once he swung, Redfield wasn't there, the shadows whittled away and disappeared. Then something latched around his neck, Sarkis had some strength and disarmed Lanius; he couldn't break free. Sarkis stood firmly behind him.

"You think highly of yourself, Conquest," said Sarkis, "You're not the first monster that stood against me."

"I proved my determination already," Lanius strained roughly in response, "No Demigod nor Dragonborn will stand in my way."

"I do not doubt your power, Conquest."

Sarkis shoved something sharp through Lanius' back. It ripped through his armour and came out his chest. He cried out, trying to hold back the pain he felt. It was Sally splitting through his chest.

Sarkis shoved his Sally through Lanius' back harder, and he growled as it tore through where the heart was supposed to be. "Hmmm... You're heartless..."

"Didn't need it," Lanius grumbled.

Lanius gripped the bloody blade sprouting from his chest with both hands and started to pull. Sarkis was strong, but Lanius felt more things encouraging him to rip Sally from the so-called Demigod's grip. He couldn't think about the damage to his integrity, not when he was so close to winning the day.

Once Sally was ripped out of Lanius' chest, he elbowed Sarkis across the face, stunning him long enough for Lanius to kick down with his mighty boot. "My anger and determination burns hotter than your fire, Demigod!"

"I expected as much..."

As Sarkis was about to sit up, Lanius equipped Sally and swung her at him. Sarkis rolled away and whipped his hand; Mustang appeared out of nowhere in a black blur. He fired but Lanius blocked the round with Sally, the loud ring hurt his ears. Then Lanius felt another round hit his knee, staggering him.

"Bloody necromancers!"

Sarkis smiled. "I dabble, mostly."

Sarkis fired again, however, in a bizarre twist, Lanius blinked towards him and took a boot to the chest. The body blow threw him down on his back. To just see it happening was just a motion blur, blink, and it was over.

Lanius leapt into the air and thrust Sally into the ground, hoping it would hit his adversary. Naturally, Sarkis was gone in an instant. After hearing some movement to his right, Lanius ripped sally from the scorched sands and hooked her to his side, impaling Sarkis' gun-hand.

The sounds of Sarkis' howls pleased Lanius while he moved further, grabbing his hand and swinging him over his back. Only the odd grunt would escape the Demigod when his tender body struck into the ground again.

Lanius pressed his boot on Sarkis' head and gripped his wrist - pulling, pulling hard enough to dislocate his right arm. With glee, Lanius cackled. Still pulling, he ripped Sarkis' forearm as easy as plucking the legs off a spider. Sarkis' eyes widened, his face struck with visible concern.

With his hands gripping Sarkis' collars, Lanius picked him up and slammed his head into his. Lanius' terrifying, metal helmet exploded Sarkis' nose in a bright burst of red and broke everything else - the sheer weight of it all was mesmerising. Once left reeling, Lanius threw a straight punch to his face, and Sarkis flew backwards.

Sarkis rose to his feet but slumped onto his knees, not able to fight. "A bitter blow..." He held his bloody stump.

"I was hoping for a challenge..." Lanius walked away to retrieve his bumper sword while keeping his eyes fixated on Sarkis; he didn't move.

"General Redfield... I... I failed you..." Sarkis fell on his face and ceased to move.

"Puny Demigod."

Lanius didn't question what just happened; there were too many to list. One minute he's killing an old man and the next he's fighting an alleged Demigod. He had no more strength to offer, so Lanius didn't think much of it and carried on with the crucifixion. Whoever Redfield was; he was motionless for the time being.

It didn't even take Lanius a single minute to return with a crude cross made of hard oak, some iron stakes and a mallet; the cross was sturdy and big enough for himself. There was no trouble to nail Redfield to the cross from the state of his health.

Lanius hammered iron stakes into Redfield's hands and feet. The blood flow was more than before as the stakes wedged through his veins and ligaments. He placed the cross at the edge of the cliffside, digging it into place for the entire camp to see.

"Comfortable?"

Redfield couldn't even open his eyes, moving in any way possible stirred up some gritty pain. He could only mutter through his clenched teeth in a raspy tone. Blood trickled off his grey beard. His face sagged when he noticed most of his arm was missing.

"In time… the Legion… will fall… and you'll… be the one… to suffer the worst… of them all…" Redfield muttered, "In the name… of good… and right… You will lose... you... you..."

"Savage?" Lanius interrupted Redfield during his outburst. "Poor Zaac, you were never the smart one, were you?"

Redfield hardened with shocked expression stretching across his wrinkled face, he sputtered and gurgled on his blood and words. "Wait… what? Conquest? Y… You're the lost Horseman… Dorian?"

"In the flesh. Been quite a while since your stupid son ruined my plans and marooned me here."

"Unforeseen outcome..."

Lanius sheathed Sally into his belt and his bumper sword over his back where it belonged. He paced around Redfield. "You delusional old fool, never been the one to admit his mistakes. Like father like son."

"At least... I _had_ a father."

"Never needed one. Ah, before I forget, the surprise visit from Sarkis was a nice change of pace by the way. Did you have to pay extra for that? Turning into a fallen Demigod is quite a juicy perk, even if it was entirely desperate."

"Fuck... you..."

"To the grave then... so be it. Oh, well, back to business."

"Must we?"

"As of now, the Legion marches into the Capital and the Commonwealth. Megaton, Diamond City, Goodneighbour, Rivet City and the Citadel… nowhere is safe. All the major cities will belong to the Legion. Just like everywhere else you tread, all hope for you is lost. Get used to it Wesker, I won. Not even Gods can save you now."

"The Legion… will grow… weary of your… leadership… and so will the Wasteland… I… I..." Redfield gurgled, then began to sputter with blistering rage behind. "You will die kicking and screaming you… fucking bastard!"

"History will not see that way, unfortunately."

"You'll… get what's..." Redfield breathed, unable to finish his words. He vomited violently down his beard and chest, then bled slowly from his hands, running down his legs to the pool below his feet. He closed his eyes and fell limp without a sound.

"Zaac?"

Lanius checked Redfield's body for a pulse. The blood loss was too much for the old general to survive; he was finally broken and succumbed to his misery. The satisfaction was too much for Lanius, to finally rid the world of his enemy.

"Goodnight, Zaac."

Lanius spent some more time basking in the glory of outright crucifying the legendary general. Down below, beyond the piles of Legion corpses, everyone was gone, excluding Lyannah and William who were out of commission still. To make heads or tails was damn hard, the camp was dead respectively, all but one person.

"Lanius!" David yelled from behind.


	2. David x Lyannah vs Lanius

Lanius turned around. "This is a nice surprise."

David aimed the Redeemer and got ready for a serious scrap. "You ready to die?"

David's power armour was bloodied and damaged from the constant Legion attacks, left only with a pocketful of ammo for his minigun, it was more than enough to help empty the rage. The shoulder plates were chipped, and the chest piece was giving away. David spun the Redeemer's barrels and kept his distance, wits and instinct.

Lanius tilted his head. "You have my attention..."

Once the hail of lead began to spray, Lanius unsheathed Sally and shielded his body from harm's way, while pressing on the advance to David. The lightness and sharpness of Sally could rip David open like a can of tuna, struck some sense of fear on the unknown prowess it held, amplified further with the speed Lanius was coming at him. It seemed all he could do is spray and pray until the Redeemer runs out of juice or overheats - whatever happens first.

 _What a surprise_ , David thought in horror.

The Redeemer jammed up mid-spray. That was the first time it had ever done that to his startled eyes; this allowed Lanius to make the first strike. David to ducked quickly and shifted behind Lanius' back; he needed time to sort out his minigun. Weapons jamming mid-fight was a death sentence.

David was able to get the Redeemer in working order with a quick adjustment of the overheated barrels. Lanius had already brought up Sally and spun it in a circular motion, shielding his body. David knew better than that, he bought his time and waited for Lanius to let down his guard, though the thought may be fearful it was all David could do.

Lanius got in close to David, close to hacking him to a pulp within an arm's reach. David couldn't risk getting too cocky with Lanius swinging Sally around everywhere, after every swing the chance of him slicing his face open increased. Even after some well-timed dodging, Lanius landed a thrust that caught David's shoulder.

The pain sent David's adrenaline soaring high, numbing it entirely. He let it all out and used his Redeemer to beat Sally from Lanius' hand with a right swing; then whacking at his face. It was working better than David had expected; he was pushing Lanius back consistently.

When Lanius broke through David's attacks into a chokehold, David grabbed Lanius' hand, paying close attention to the wrist. David felt irritation when he used his amplified strength to crush Lanius' wrist.

With the modified strength of his power armour, David was able to force his will to loosen the tight grip on his neck. Lanius hardly felt the pain once David crushed his left hand. Lanius kicked David's stomach fiercely out of spite; this sent David skidding back. David's Redeemer had cooled down enough to spin up again, but Lanius was hot on his tail with Sally in hand at blistering speed.

With Lanius deflecting his gunfire, David couldn't breach his guard, even firing at Lanius' exposed feet and shins failed to faze him or his speed. For someone to wield Sally to the manner he was, David was able to avoid Lanius' strikes and swings; even parrying a few with his minigun.

Lanius clutched David's shoulder and bashed his head in with Sally's hilt several times; every pummel started to fracture his helmet a tiny crack. After the sixth beating, David shielded his face with his Redeemer and swatted away Sally, irritating Lanius, then hit back at his face with the Redeemer's butt.

Lanius grabbed David's Redeemer by the rotating barrels and applied so much pressure he crushed a handful of barrels, rendering it unusable. He ripped it from David's hands and threw it away, Lanius crudely punched his chest in below the ribs, robbing him of his breath before he could retract his eyes from the red minigun.

With David coughing up the contents of his last supper being of canned beans and instant mash, he couldn't block Lanius' colossal straight punch, in which stored enough mass to flatten him. David's constant muffled cursing inside his battered helmet was almost audible as his world started to fade to black.

From behind, Lanius clutched David's shoulder and threw him far out to the dirt, softening him up to pound on more. David didn't even have time to collect his thoughts, let alone get back on his feet, Lanius was already kicking him into the dirt. With the strength and fury of the kicks and stomps, David's structural integrity was dropping.

Lanius growled with utter confidence and stomped on David's face, resting his boot on the bridge of his helmet's nose. Pressed his head into the ground." How does it feel to be crushed under my boot, profligate?"

"Oh, it feels a bit like this!" David cried out with his limited breath, grabbing Lanius' heel and forces him to tumble over him.

The recovery of the two was phenomenal, Lanius, of course, was much faster and was quicker to grab David's shoulders than he was vice versa. A solid headbutt and a straight punch to the face, David was on his knees, backhanded into the dirt again.

David unsheathed his combat knife and desperately ploughed it at Lanius, missing his head by an inch and gouging through his wrist. He blocked his face with his right forearm and let the knife's tip pierce his metal armour. Lanius grabbed David's helmet and forced him into the ground with massive velocity, bashing his head into the dirt.

The pain was quick, but David heard every crack and crumble inside his helmet as Lanius' built pressure on his head - everything was fading to black. Felt like his head was going to explode like a tomato from Lanius' big, meaty hand.

With one hand behind his back, Lanius threw David into the air, soaring well above his head. Despite the weight of his power armour, David landed and into Lanius' grasp like it was nothing. The juggling of his mass, when David hit the dirt again, it was with a hefty thud, disturbing the ground and throwing out his back. It was hard to focus juggled around like that.

Lanius sighed disdainfully and unholstered two fresh revolvers and shot at David like a rabid animal. High calibre .45-70 Gov't shells skimmed, fractured and punched through David's power armour, all across his face and neck - scattering his thoughts.

Lanius swapped between revolvers instead of reloading; he had a few loaded Ranger Sequoias holstered in an arm's reach and discharged as many shells possible at David. Totalling almost up to twenty rounds in quick succession, Lanius never seemed to run out of hot lead.

David collapsed onto his face. It was more of a struggle to stay conscious than on his feet; taking a nap would be just grand in his eyes - a comfy bed to sleep the pain away. David dropped on his hands and knees, bleeding profusely from the aching wounds around his chest area.

"Is that the best you got? Pity..." Lanius mocked, raising David off his feet by his shoulder. "Now… let's see the look in your eyes before I squeeze the life out of you."

Lanius disconnected David's helmet from his power armour and cast it aside to see the man behind the mask. A brief period of awkward silence later and Lanius hardly moved. To his eyes, David was the painful reminder of Lanius' old life, an ancient relic from his past, David may not know it, but _he_ does.

Lanius' tone of voice was bitter then got gradually more and more irritated as his chest puffed out. "David...? David!?" Out of sheer rage and fury of a thousand supernovas going off at once, Lanius threw David with all of his might, launching him right over the cliffside, crashing down on his tent.

From down below on Lanius' tent, amid the confusion, David regained consciousness on top of Lyannah; she looked very peaceful with her relaxed posture and free-flowing hair. In a word, she was beautiful. There was something about a woman sleeping that felt nice on the heart; only she wasn't sleeping.

Apart from nearly crushing her with his weight, Lyannah was a mess. The wounds all over her made David's skin crawl. Bleeding gut, broken hands, battered face, it was disgusting to see a woman treated that way.

"Lyannah!" David tried trying to revive her with his best efforts, shaking her, CPR and even praying, nothing worked. "Lyannah, please wake up. I need your help… Please…"

Lanius stepped to the edge of the cliffside, staring down at David with folded arms. "So, the prodigal son has returned. Our meeting has been a long time coming, David..."

"Lanius!" David shouted, standing up to Lanius, ending his fruitless revival of Lyannah. "How the hell do you know me?!"

"I am surprised you had forgotten about me so easily after you fucked me over during that day of the accident, and ripping us both from our native timeline!" Lanius calmly shouted down.

"No… No… No!" David cried, freezing with a sudden impact of traumatic deja vu. It was _him_. "Y… Y-You can't be..."

Lanius discarded his helmet, bearing his face for David to personally witness. The left side of his head was replaced with machinery, from his jaw to the top of his skull. Heavily damaged organic face, deep scars ran under his eyes, and the blood-red crimson colour of them was all too hard to miss. What was more noteworthy was his thin yellow blood, leaking from his wounds.

There was only one person David knew that fit the bill. "So it _is_ you… Shit..." David muttered in fear, freezing on the spot. "Dorian..."

"What's the matter, David? You look like you've seen a ghost," Dorian mocked, cracking his knuckles. "It's been twenty-four years; I've been waiting for this moment for twenty-four _years_! Now I can finally make you pay for the damage you caused me!"

"Caused you? Caused _you_?! You were there with the Nexus! You attacked Beverly!" David raged, pointing at Dorian with much content. "It was all Umbrella's fault!"

"You think you destroyed the Nexus? You merely destroyed the _transformer_ , not the Nexus itself!" Dorian stated. "Just shows how little you know about the actions that conspired back then." He paced across the cliffside. "I was only there to _protect_ the Nexus Transformer from Verkraft Industries. _You_ ignored my warnings; now, you will pay for your lack of vision."

David coughed blood and brushed his face. "Even with the damage that's been done, it's all in the recovery of our actions… here and now is all that matters. Redemption for our endeavours can make things right-"

"Are you proposing we redeem ourselves?" Dorian chuckled. "I have nothing to prove. Look around you..." Dorian mocked, showing David the hazardous Wasteland around. The scorched yellow skies, the death and betrayal down below. The day was taking turns for the worse by the minute. The wind sang to his ears; it sounded of evil and decay.

"The new world is a barren, hostile, violent breeding ground for greed and corruption," he continued, "I love it! The Legion accepts me for who I am all anew, and I'm free to do anything I want because all who oppose the Legion's will is doomed to fail! Right now, this will all end the same way it started: just you and me. Without your father, what hope do you have against me?"

"I _really_ hate to admit it, but he is not wrong," David muttered to himself.

Dorian put his fractured metal helmet back over his shaped hair and unsheathed Sally from his belt. "Best make peace now. Your time is over!"

"Working for the Legion is low, even for your standards. Umbrella, Neo-Umbrella, now the bloody Legion." David whipped out his slung M4 and aimed Dorian, fighting the deep urge to give up. "Could you be any more of an abomination!?"

"You think I work for the Legion? I _am_ the Legion; I fucking deserve no less!" Dorian roared. "You have no idea what I've been through just to stay alive! Fuelled only by the singular hatred I have for you, to one day make you pay for you did!. You may have forgotten about me a long time ago, but I _never_ forgot about you."

David took short breaths and lowered his aim with a slight thought of conscience. _Could it be my fault...?_ "No one should be blamed for the sins of their past, but this time, I'm going to make it all right - even if it costs me my life!"

Dorian stepped down from the cliffside, dropping his heavy mass with a loud thud. He walked towards David and began flourishing with Sally. Sally skimmed the air and whistled. "The first Wesker to take responsibility for his actions, how noble. You got guts, kid, too bad this is the end of your sad story."

David fired his M4 all over Dorian, the blistering speed he manoeuvred made it hard for David to land a single sound, and the constant inhuman blinking made it near impossible to focus. He'd never be in the same place twice and shift between bullets.

At the last blink, Dorian threw his clenched body at David with similar mass and power of a cannonball, throwing him on his back again. That's what Dorian does, lands a double dropkick on the victim's chest.

While he was down, Dorian heaved Sally down at his face. David rolled out of the way, and quickly onto his feet. David reloaded and shot furiously at Dorian's backside while he had difficulty wedging Sally out of the ground; it was barely scratching him. The bullets impacted but failed to draw blood, like shooting a German bear with a BB gun.

Dorian had just ripped Sally from the ground and swung it David's general direction; Dorian's perfect positioning of Sally, caused some of David's bullets to graze dangerously close to his left eye and temple. The sudden shock halted David's gunfire to cover his face with, an inch to the right was far too close for comfort.

Dorian swung and hacked Sally at David while he was distracted, so distracted after the first few swings David naturally countered a swing at the wrong possible time. Forgetting that Sally can cut through steel like butter, David's M4 was cleaved in two. Before the next swing, he got in close to Lanius to catch Sally's hilt.

Dorian punched David's face, breaking his nose and then twisted his body to swing Sally into his abdomen, slicing through his power armour. Following the wedge between, that's where he drew the most blood. David clutched his stomach and cursed so hard, which just came out in gibberish.

The pain felt gritty like having a power saw revved slowly into his flesh. Sally was known to cut through almost anything, but it wasn't always swift. That pain ended when Dorian kicked his chest in.

While David was ripe and ready to be finished by Sally, all he could do is to shield his face with his hands and hope for the best, slowly waiting for his inevitable demise. He couldn't give up, but to die, knowing he did everything he could... David didn't care if he died or not.

Suddenly, a woman in black shielded David, her elegant black blade saved him from Sally's edge, while it was just inches away from his face. It was none other than Lyannah. "Remember me, Lanius?!" she growled. Locking blades with Dorian.

"Dragonborn?"

Lyannah used her blade to lift Sally away from David's head, and with her strength alone, she threw Dorian back a few steps. "Wasn't I enough for you?" She felt around her bleeding gut.

"Don't flatter yourself, child. You were never enough to satisfy me."

"Then how about two for the price of one?" Lyannah stretched out her left arm and fired a fistful of shadows at Lanius, turning him right around and losing Sally in the making.

David had only caught his breath. "You're alive? I thought you were-"

"Don't act so surprised," Lyannah interrupted. With a short glance back, she offered her hand for David to help himself up on his feet.

"Seriously, I thought you were dead."

"You overthink too much, Agent." David wielded Sally from the ground and stood by her side. "You just about ready to finish this fight?"

David loosed up his shoulders. "Like you even had to ask."

"I suppose the two of you can provide me with a decent fight." Dorian unsheathed his bumper sword from his back. "Saves me half the trouble and gives you a sporting chance, that's for sure." He pointed at David with his sword. "And _you_ say I lack honour."

Lyannah peered to David. "Does he ever shut up?" she asked mutually.

"I'm afraid not"


	3. Just getting started

Dorian focused primarily on David, even with Lyannah leaping over his head Dorian didn't slow down; he could handle two adversaries easily with his new A.I. and naturally superior reflexes. Lyannah was like a flea or a mosquito; distracting him from the more significant threat, David Wesker.

With a quick shove, David was down, with Lyannah soaring high over his head thrusting her sword again at Dorian's face. He parried her thrust and threw her over his head behind him and quickly targeted her. Even though Dorian was in the middle of it all; he wasn't concerned.

Lyannah unsheathed her dagger and ran for Dorian, locking her blades with his. She struck at him first with quick swipes and thrusts, but Dorian's enthusiasm hadn't changed, he effortlessly intercepted her strikes with ease like before.

Several clashes later into their feud, it took only a mighty boot to Lyannah's shin to cease her endless fury of attacks. David tried to land a thrust on Dorian, but he just blocked it without a single look and rammed his meaty bumper sword's hilt into his abdomen, crumbling the plate under his chest.

The heft took all the breath out of David and left him gasping for more. As he thought Dorian's focus was back on Lyannah, David turned around and got swatted the side of his head. With a quick tumble, David's heavy body collapsed onto the ground.

Lyannah charged at Dorian while his back was turned, though she lost the element of surprise as he stared her dead in the eyes. Lyannah dropped, sliding on the dry ground, between Dorian's legs.

Dorian turned quickly to see Lyannah already leaping at him with her two blades, gouging them right into his chest, piercing through the metal plating. Both dagger and sword was skewered into his chest, and she clutched onto him, using her blades as leverage.

An unusual method, Dorian believed. Lyannah wrapped her legs around Dorian's back and fixed herself into place. She dug her dagger into his left shoulder and left it buried into his helmet; she pummelled the rest of his face with her free hand.

She was far too close to use his bumper sword on; he had to get rid of her quickly. Lyannah removed her dagger and aimed it at Dorian's forehead, managing to penetrate his metal helmet. He didn't care. He firmly grasped her fist, and with a twitch, he snapped it at the wrist.

She yelped and cried in the horrible gritty pain she was hoping to forget. With her still crying on and on, Dorian unravelled her right leg from him and threw her away at David.

David caught Lyannah as he got back up on his feet, she grimaced in his arms from the pain. Anything and everything she deals with Dorian always leaves her battered and broken, with him feeling in tip-top shape. The only person that has any insight would be David; he didn't look like he could do any better than she did.

"This guy's a lunatic!"

David sighed. "Where have I heard that before?"

Lyannah pressed on her stomach. "This fuckin' hurts! How do we kill this guy already?"

"Do you trust me, Lyannah?"

"Yes… David."

David took out his combat knife and ran it down his cheek. "You know what to do."

Lyannah nodded in confirmation.

David stood up and helped Lyannah up on her feet; he went the extra mile and gave her a boost. She felt strong enough to use her ring to shoot shadowy shards at Dorian as hard as she could.

As expected, Dorian shielded his face with his bumper sword, the shadows struck but didn't pierce. The very second Lyannah's shards skimmed through the air David reached for a compartment in his thigh and pulled out a light blue grenade and threw it at Dorian.

The grenade exploded in a flash as bright as the sun, right in Dorian's face. He got the full blast and staggered, finally catching him off guard. He appeared to be blind as a bat but stood calmly, awaiting any further advances from David or Lyannah. He expected their assaults.

David rushed at Dorian and threw the most energetic punch he could at his face. At the point of contact, he was surprised to find that Dorian anticipated his actions and swerved his body out of harm's way.

"Still working on that."

David threw another punch at Dorian; he was able to slide David's clenched fist away and leaving him to trail off. Dorian kicked David's rear end, and he staggered. Suddenly, from behind Dorian, Lyannah clutched his waist and threw his mass over her head into a suplex. As he was about to get up on his feet, Lyannah followed up with a kick that landed right where his nose should be, laying him flat out on the ground below the cliffside.

Dorian's movements gradually slowed down, as Dorian sluggishly rose to his feet. Lining him up and knocking him down was working. Dorian removed his metal helmet, showing his full face, looking almost like David only ten or so years older and with robotics replacing half his head. His red eyes glimmered.

"I should have killed you centuries ago... David."

David shrugged. "We _both_ should be dead, yet, we're still here."

"You were lucky to be born outside of my knowledge." Dorian cackled. "If I knew you were gonna be this much trouble, I would've aimed my bitter hatred at your parents a _lot_ sooner."

Lyannah backed away from Dorian; he was even meaner than she had envisioned but also less intimidating. She had to hold David back before acting on pure rage due to the nasty tease Dorian was throwing his way.

"Do you fear nothing, Lanius?" Lyannah asked.

"Nothing within _your_ power, Dragonborn, that's for damn certain."

David gripped Sally with both hands, ready to face off whatever Dorian has in mind. Dorian started walking to the pair, but they both saw his face twitch and his hand move to his stomach. His fingers dipped into his armour, bringing out a syringe housing a colourless liquid.

A quick shot to the neck and Dorian relaxes with a sudden rush like it was adrenaline or some booster. David took some time to look around for anything that could prove useful; he noticed Red Hare near Dorian's tent. Even if it was empty, it could be handy as a club; it had weight and provided some damage potential.

Without a pause, Dorian leapt into the air and landed dead between the pair; the shockwave sent David towards the crashed tent and Lyannah tipping over near the ledge. Dorian continued his assault on David with his bumper sword against Sally, leaving Lyannah feeling weaker by the second.

The dirty stairs below was around a ten-metre drop, could easily break some bones with her body being so weak. She couldn't stop Dorian, she just never faced such an opponent before, hell even the dragons from her world were never this persistent or this formidable.

David knew his way around this brute; she didn't. She never felt so inferior up until now, but she couldn't let David die. Lyannah ripped her dagger from Dorian's helmet and sent forth a battle cry, latching herself onto Dorian's back again. Dorian didn't seem to care, so she went away and plunged her dagger several times at his head, all over where his brain should be.

Every stab appeared to whittle her dagger away, blunting it. The durability of the left portion of his head was nothing short of phenomenal compared to his armour. Robotic. The organic half wasn't any weaker despite not being cold, hard steel.

With a solid backhand to the face, David was thrown off his feet far towards the rocky side, under the even higher high ground. They were going around in circles, like a predator with prey. Dorian took this moment to pause and to deal with David's little sidekick, leaving his bumper sword in the ground.

Dorian clutched Lyannah's shoulders and heaved her body at the same wall David impacted, only further away to the left side - the tent scattered around her. David's power armour plating was giving away and coming apart from the constant torment, and Lyannah laid on the ground surrounded in broken scraps.

Dorian smiled. "Poor performance, indeed."


	4. Cass vs Lanius

The game was coming to an end. Dorian pulled Lyannah's sword from his chest and threw it at David while he was on his knees getting up. He shielded his face with his bare hands, fearing for his life as the blade came at him like a bullet.

"Nooooo!" Lyannah screamed, shoving away David without warning.

When the dust settled, Lyannah was standing firm and proud, with her ebony sword skewered in her upper torso. Blood poured from Lyannah's wound and ran down her mouth. David saw shock and peace in her startled, emerald eyes.

She glared at David and touched her sword once while it rested near her heart, taking short breaths. Every feeling irritated her. Her lips trembled. "D-David, I don't feel so good…" Lyannah uttered, lightly with heart. She reached for David, crying out internally for him but eventually collapsed to the floor, in a small puddle of her blood.

"Lyannah!" David cried. "Goddamn you, Dorian! I'm gonna kill you!"

"I invite you to try."

David dashed Sally and swung for Dorian in a heated, sloppy manner. Dorian had no problem stepping out of harm's way and blocking a somewhat predictable second swing. Dorian swung his bumper sword's pommel at David's face once, fracturing many of his teeth and some of his jaw, then thumping his stomach several times over.

With each strike stronger than the last, it destroyed the armour around his torso completely. A short few minutes into the fight with a rejuvenated Dorian Savage, the impact from the constant barrage left David breathless. The last hit to the face knocked him down, so dazed, he could barely stay awake to see the scorched skies above.

Dorian stepped into view, looking down at David with great joy. "Your future hinges upon this fight! Now, die..."

If there was any trump card David had at his disposal, it was Dorian's weakness. As Dorian raised his bumper sword above his head, David gingerly tossed another flash grenade into the air and quickly covered his eyes.

In the sudden blast of the bright light, Dorian covered his face and staggered away, swinging his bumper sword desperately. David took his chance to get Sally and make his move. He rushed at Dorian full speed while he was just getting his bearings, with Sally tightly grasped with both hands. Dorian wasn't quick enough to fully recover, though, through his superior awareness, he had some time to adjust.

David ran Sally through his torso; at the same time, Dorian swung for David's chest with his bumper sword. David disturbed Dorian's counterattack, so his bumper sword only struck waist, at the cost of his horrible aiming, David was only able to graze Dorian's right arm.

The recovery was sloppy, David toppled down from the sudden spurts of blood from the gash around his hip. Dorian, on the other hand, paused briefly and then fell on his knees, suffering from a critical hit.

Dorian's right arm dropped off his shoulder, spurting torrents of his yellow blood all over the ground; his reaction didn't falter. David's aim was true; his mediocre attack cut through Dorian's bumper sword and severed his arm from his shoulder. Sally's sharpness had more bite than bark, and it showed.

"Ignorant cretin!" Dorian shouted. He picked up his bumper sword and approached David with deadly intentions, wielding the blade like a scimitar.

Suddenly, in a blinding outburst, Dorian planted both feet into the ground and launched himself into the air, far over David's head. The speed at which he was landing, Dorian ploughed his sword right on top of him. However, David quickly dived out of harm's way, at the cost of dropping Sally from the shockwave Dorian caused.

The fresh bloody wounds around David's chest stopped him from standing his balance; he had to force himself on his feet, adding to the strain on his ankles. Dorian put sheathed his sword into his belt and picked up Sally.

"Time to play can opener." Dorian cackled. "What fleshy surprise is waiting for me under that armour of yours, David?"

"Cocky for someone who lost an arm, asshole."

"I'll get a new one, and _you're_ gonna pay for it!"

Dorian approached David and started swinging Sally; each blow stored massive force with every swing and backhand he sent David's way. Sally sliced through David's power armour like tinfoil. Between the gaps of his plates, Sally's edge drew blood like a hot knife through butter.

Over the metallic screeches, some of Sally's iconic singing was audible. All David had to use on such short notice was Maria, and Dorian was the type to ignore small arms fire. David walked up to Dorian, firing several times; each shot erupted yellow splatter against Dorian's face and neck, barely stunning him.

"Bad idea..." _Cyborgs eat bullets. Shoot the mouth and splatter brain._

When Dorian got in close, he nearly took David's hand clean off with one well-placed swing. As David readjusted his aim, Dorian's dashed forward and swung upwards, catching David's gun-hand. Not only Maria was sliced in half, but he also lost his trigger finger, all the way to his knuckle. David cried and cursed loudly over the loss of his digit.

Dorian grinned and followed forward, shoulder tackling David. He swung at David again, this time slicing across his chest, lightly brushing his ribs. David howled and fell onto his backside, leaning on his bloody hand, covering his face from Dorian and sneaking out another flash grenade from his rear.

As things were about to fade black, he hurled it at Dorian's face again, David figured he'd catch on quick, so he didn't expect the flash to stun him. Only it did. Dorian, once again was stunned and flailed Sally about, raging and cursing David's name. David pummelled away at Dorian's blind face, emptying the rage within, using only his clenched fists.

The recovery wasn't as prolonged as David thought. Dorian headbutted the bridge of David's nose, breaking it like it was nothing. Dorian cut across David's legs and plunged Sally into his right shoulder, spraying his blood out like a fountain. Due to David's miscalculations, Sally was shredding him into ribbons.

The pain was too great to control mentally; David's howls and cries couldn't mask the pain. He gritted his broken teeth and kept Dorian from ripping Sally from his tender shoulder flesh; it was all he really could do. The pain was more prominent if Sally stayed in the cavity, but it kept Dorian from trying to take his head off with her.

The power armour strength allowed David to contest the might of Dorian's cybernetic limb. Dorian couldn't be bothered to play David's game; he let Sally rest into his flesh and grabbed David's head. He couldn't resist Dorian's firm grasp and was pulled to one side, only to be thrown clumsily at the nearby tent's shambles.

David was fading in and out of consciousness with the constant beatings he suffered. While glaring upon Lyannah's body, the battered, bloody state of her person caused a spark in his mind, of a woman he once knew.

That's when he started hearing voices inside his head. There was a woman whom he loved long ago who shared a similar look. The look of a desperate woman. A woman he cared for. One he let down.

A bloodied and battered David pulled up a wounded woman – clinging to her dear life. She was roughly his age and had flowing ginger hair. It was back in a place he used to live, before the War. Beverly Hills, with his first love, Samantha Simpson. He started hearing her voice once again, along with his very own - almost like a shattered memory.

 _David…? David… I...I…_

 _Don't talk. I'm going to get you out of here, Sam. You hear me?_

 _David… are we going to die?_

 _No. You're gonna live._

 _I can't... I have no strength..._

 _You got to work with me, honey. Come on, please! Even if it costs me my life, I'll make sure you get outta here safe and sound._

 _David…_

 _Sam, I won't ever give up on you. Please, don't give up on me._

David's body twitched. "Sam..." He thrived on the ground, then fell back into deep thought again. "Sam… Cass..."

David's mumbling ended when another memory came into view. It was him wearing his classic combat armour, standing proud and firm, with Cass holding him tightly from behind. It was back in their love suite. That wonderful place in Freeside after their marriage.

 _"What kind of bullet is this?"_

 _"Hmm? Oh, that? That's a bizarre shell that my dad personally crafted. Inside the bullet is a cancerous mutagen called the Progenitor virus."_

 _"A virus?! That sounds dangerous."_

 _"Definitely. They were never fully mass-produced, though, only six of them were ever made. This one I keep as a trophy and a symbol of a personal achievement of mine."_

 _Cass looped her arms around David's neck. "Of what?"_

 _"Of the time, Dorian and I killed each other for the first time. Ironically after dying, I never felt so alive."_

David's eyes creaked open a slither. "P-virus? Progenitor?"

He took out his necklace and unclipped the .475 P-viral magnum round; it was still potent. While Dorian wasn't looking David chucked his last flash grenade to distract him, hoping it would be long enough for him to load the shell into Red Hare.

It worked. Dorian hesitated and got stunned by the intense flash. David had one shot, and it had to count. Even if the grenade didn't stun him long, the sudden pitch stalled Dorian. Either way, it stalled him for the precious seconds he needed.

The .475 magnum tore through the air and broke the sound barrier like never before, right at Dorian. The shell intended for his face curved towards his chest, on account of David's shaky aim. His left hand wasn't as good as his right, and his middle finger was a terrible trigger finger.

The shell pierced straight through his chest. By now the tacky black bile was in his bloodstream, overloading his body way over the P-viral levels, he's accustomed to. Dorian choked and vomited during the throbbing migraines from the virus' effect.

Dorian staggered all over in a hazy manner. David got back up on his feet, unslung his Remington and gave him hell, hails of flechette scattered all over Dorian's chest and face. Even while shielding his face, the shells punched through his armour, further exposing his organic body underneath.

The sharpened steel needles splatted yellow flesh and blood under David's feet. The feeling of walking over Dorian's mangled meat was extraordinary as it was like a golden brick road, paving the way to end an Old World tyrant.

Every step, every shell, every blast, brought Dorian closer to the ledge, at the tip, one more shot was needed to topple him over, but Dorian recuperated before David could load a single cartridge. Before he could pump, Dorian snatched David's shotgun and kicked him away.

The kick to the chest was harder than the last dozen; it sent him hard and fast to the tent behind. Dorian used his immense strength to break the shotgun in two with a single firm grasp, snapping it like a twig.

Luckily for Dorian, David was too far out cold this time to get back up. On the approach, he was too far out of it to feel Dorian ripping Sally from his shoulder. The blood on Sally was fresh. Fresh red juicy droplets of superhuman blood. Dorian couldn't resist the temptation, he ran Sally across his tongue, licking up David's blood. A guilty pleasure.

With an instant rush of pure ecstasy, he shuddered with desire. It tasted different, as human blood only with the slightest seasoning of P-viral antibodies sprinkled in. It wasn't as tasty as it used to be. During their last encounter, David's blood was rich with traces of Prototype virus; it was regular. No different than a human. Boring.

"You're human? How pathetic. That would make you half the man you used to be."

Suddenly, as Dorian raised Sally above his head, gunfire emerged behind him. A single bullet struck Sally from his hand, tumbling him around, it was Cass. Without skipping a beat, she reloaded and kept Dorian in her sights. "You must be the big bad, Legate Lanius? I heard all about you, asshole."

"Get out of here, woman! Or I'll kill you too!"

"Not happenin'."

"You're joking? I killed a Dragonborn, an ex-Demigod, and now this weakling lazes before me. What could you offer me, woman?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm a pretty crack shot, and this rifle I have here uses really big bullets."

"You won't last a minute—"

"I can last _longer_ than you..."

"No woman can last longer than me-"

Cass unloaded her hunting rifle at Dorian without hesitation. He couldn't reach her quick enough with the P-virus weakening him; the heavy bullets toppled him over the tent's remains until he fell.

Just when Cass thought it was over, Dorian stepped out of the wreckage and stumbled towards her, he bled heavily from his open wounds. Dorian tripped over his feet, making his way to her.

"Didn't think you'd stay down for too long." Cass reloaded. "That's good. There's still hell to pay."

He vomited more and more of his yellow blood over his hand. He reached into his armour and took out a syringe, jamming it into his neck, at the same time Cass shot it clean from his hand, destroying it. Spewed the liquid inside all over the ground, Dorian was so desperate to get the chemical inside his body, trying to salvage anything left. The liquid dried up instantly over the tent's fabric and wood.

"No!" Dorian cursed with his most furious expression, stretching over his ugly mug. "That was a mistake… Your last God-damned mistake!" His head twitched.

Cass scoffed. "Whatever." She aimed at Dorian's face. "Let's see what you got Legion boy."

"You'll regret those words, human; you sealed both of our fates!"

Cass gave Dorian no warning; she gave him everything she got. Dorian still had Sally and had to get in close. Cass was more than capable of facing Dorian, but he blinked, only uncoordinated and savage.

The blinking was seemingly infinite, dodging in and out of her bullets. He'd stand still for only a fraction of a second before blinking closer and closer. Not a single shot could land on Dorian; he got even more twitchy when he started blinking prematurely within Cass' sights.

"Stay still!" Cass yelled in frustration.

"Some kind of trouble?"

With a short exclaim from Cass' end, Dorian blinked approximately next to her, just by her right shoulder and swiftly disarmed her. She tried to fight him off with her bare hands, but he long fisted her, the sheer speed he had projected enough force to launch her towards the tent's remains, close to Lyannah.

In a single second, Cass had a fractured rib and was already worn down. Her health wasn't ideal, to begin with, now her back and ankles started acting up. She even felt nauseous.

Cass examined Lyannah. "Lyannah?" She sat up. "Lyannah!" She saw Lyannah's blade resting through her chest and confirmed the worst. "Shit! She's dead! This is awful."

Dorian approached her with Sally sheathed in his belt. "She is the first of many. No more, no less."

"What the fuck are you?!"

"I am mankind's future of liberation." Dorian stopped at Cass' feet. "You humans being so tremendously thick and stubborn to accept change is making my job all the more time-consuming."

"What the ever-loving fuck are you blabbering on about?!"

"I am going to usher a brand new breed of humanity. They alone will succeed humanity as your genetic superiors, with me going down in history as their God."

"And who are you to decide that?!"

"Why none other than Dorian Savage."

Cass choked. "Dorian Savage?! Oh, no..."

"In the flesh." Dorian snickered. "Even after all these years, my name still spreads fear to the _lesser_ rabble."

"I assume _you're_ the bastard trying to wax David?"

"That would seem obvious at this point, yeah. And you wearing his armour must mean you're his significant other, are you not?" Dorian chuckled. "I imagine all his best stories involve me."

"You can fuck right off, you pompous twat!"

"My, my… you even sound like him. Ah, is it love in the air?" Dorian scoffed. "A dreadful bond. You're a bit on the mouthy type, much unlike his first wife." He stared down at Cass, raising his finger. "Tell me this much, cutie, did he ever tell you the misery I caused his lovely Samantha?"

"I'm warning you once, asshole. Don't you _dare_ call me cutie..."

"I'll call you whatever I see fit. Now come here." Dorian went to grab Cass' foot, but she crawled away from him like he was some actual monster. "I'm just gonna put you out of your misery."

"Your passive aggression makes me sick to my stomach!"

"You have my glowing personality to thank for that."

Cass made contact with the rear wall and could crawl no further. Dorian was able to grab her by the neck while she protested. Her retreat was scraping the bottom of the barrel when she had her back against a wall. "End of the line." Dorian lifted Cass off her feet and walked towards the ledge far behind him; it was quite the walk.

Dorian held Cass over the edge; the ground was at least a twenty-meter drop. She held onto his arm for her dear life, and at the same time, she wanted to tear it off from the socket, though she'd fall before she could even try.

She settled for her combat knife and forced it into Dorian's arm, between the armoured plating. Dorian's expressing never changed from his default bored one; the tip of her blade just couldn't penetrate his cybernetics.

Dorian's eyes lit red with anger. "You're gonna need a bigger knife, girl."


	5. David Wesker vs Legate Lanius

Suddenly, Sally was unsheathed from behind Dorian and was plunged into his right shoulder, skewering his torso. David twisted and ground Sally into the cavity in Dorian's back. He growled, feeling Sally dig around his collarbone.

"How's this for size?!" David yelled.

The irritable pain put Dorian into a frenzy, and out of the rage, he threw Cass away behind him and David. Dorian tried to fight David's hold on him though his position was a bit of a predicament; he was unable to force David's influence away costing him to lose the balance of his footing. David was too close to his backside.

Dorian toppled over the edge but not before clutching David's hand, bringing him down with him. Cass made a mad dash to David just as he started to fall and reached out to grab him. She was too slow; she just missed his feet.

"Daviiiiiiid!" Cass cried. The ground beneath her started to give away, causing her to fall correspondingly to David.

Fortunately, she was able to grab onto the ledge, saving her from a long drop. The flaky ground crumbled away at the tips of her fingers; eventually bleeding due to her weight. Her feet dangled.

"I can't die like this..." Cass tried to lift herself, on account of her weak strength, it was to no avail. "Someone give me a hand here!"

The cliffside Cass held onto crumbled away, instantly losing her grip. As her heart stopped, some, someone caught her hand. Surprisingly, it was her least favourite person, Lyannah. She was in terrible shape, fractured bones, fresh open wounds and losing blood fast - clearly at her worst. Cass was relieved to feel Lyannah cared enough to pull her back onto solid ground.

"Boy, am I glad to see you, Lyannah."

"Don't mention it," Lyannah muttered weakly, "despite our troubles, you're a valuable asset."

"That's lovely to hear, especially from you."

"No problem." Lyannah pulled Cass further away from the ledge.

"At least things can't get any worse."

Below the ledge, David and Dorian were amongst scores of dead Legionaries by a more extensive campsite. They were the only ones alive, surrounded by a blanket of death. It was hard to fathom the Legion's death toll, but the numbers were enough to stick the entire camp with a foul odour.

David woke first with a blood-curdling howl; the fall had broken his right leg. Everything felt like it hurts more than it looks, and the energy he had was lower than ever. The virus he was born with would repair bone and meat in hours; there was never any need to feel this broken.

Sometime shortly, Dorian rose to his feet and lingered idly. He fumbled with the machinery in his head, trying to numb the bright sparks shooting from his cybernetics. Steam rushed from his wounds, sputtering bits of his blood.

"You damaged my A.I. core..." Dorian snarled. " _Big_ mistake."

"Great, I pissed him off again," David muttered sarcastically. "This is not my day..."

Dorian rested against the cliff's wall, away from David. "Systems are going critical... I won't last much longer without another shot..." He walked to David, scaring him enough for him to crawl away on his crippled arms. "You couldn't live with your own misery, David; you had to bring others down with you!"

Dorian grabbed Sally's hilt and ripped it from his body without so much as a twitch. Blood spewed from the open cavity, but it didn't even phase him. Dorian was far too pissed off as he already started to feel his body break down.

"Where does that transaction bring you?" Dorian continued, "To me!"

David's face was frozen. "Bad day, bad day, bad day..."

Dorian loomed over David like a shadow of death, with Sally in hand, he tailed David with extreme persistence. Even despite him doing his very best to crawl away, David tried to get to higher ground back to Cass and Lyannah.

With his most muscular leg broken to shit; it wasn't long until Dorian closed the distance. David couldn't get a good grip on the dry ground; his body ached while he tried to get to the dirty stairs around the right bend. The jagged rocks and terrain tore against David's belly and chest, slaughtering out a blood trail, he was at Dorian's mercy when he started swinging.

Dorian hacked and slashed out David's back and legs with ferocity, bellowing with intense pain as Dorian stripped him of his flesh. Being cut up into ribbons felt like he was gored out by surgical equipment, David couldn't believe the consistency of being shredded by Sally's edge.

In his cruel nature, Dorian cursed and mocked David while tore out his back. David's misery came to an end when he succumbed below the walkway to Dorian's tent above. He couldn't crawl any further, let alone go up the stairs.

Dorian grabbed David's ankle and swung him overhead, smashing him into the ground behind. David felt his back give away as if his spine broke in half. Dorian gripped David's ankle harder and swung him around before throwing back at the Legion's campsite. David's body curved in the air, landing with a loud thud and twisting his body in ways it shouldn't.

Piece by piece, David's power armour broke off, leaving only the frame. It was a struggle to stay conscious through the constant torment, forcing David to get back to his hands and knees; he never felt so weak. The voice inside his head was screaming at him to stay down. Broken legs, deflated chest, fractured skull and jaw, David knew he was going to die.

Dorian came over and immediately thrust Sally into David's back without hesitation; it was swift, and Sally slid into his tender flesh like a lump of clay. Dorian pulled out Sally slashed all over his exposed back with wicked precision, ripping apart his armour.

While David clung on that speck of his human life, the amount of energy he was losing to Sally's wrath was critical. Thrusts, hacks and gouges were too much to bear, David cried at the top of his bloody lungs, and untimely gave up. He thrived in the dirt, ready to die.

Dorian kicked David onto his back, all the better to stare into his eyes before he rips the life out of him. Dorian was happy, David was coughing and sputtering blood, barely moving at all, yet still alive enough for him to deliver a final blow. To finally end their petty feud, Dorian couldn't wait.

"Why are you… doing this?" David strained gruffly, through his bloody teeth. "Why me? Why…?"

Dorian felt like David was playing a game. Out of his absent black heart, he decided to humour him. "Why not?"

"Come on... there must be a reason behind this madness..." David uttered lightly, almost whispering, "What is it you want!?"

"What do I desire? Well, that's easy; I want to make you pay for what you've done to me." He hunched down to David. "I had it all back in the Old World. Wealth, power, women, and a seat as Neo-Umbrella's director, but people like you took that all away from me. Everything about me and my career was perfect, or at the very least, coming to be..." He stood back up. "The likes of you crushed my dreams, and if I can't have one, no one can."

"So that's it, huh?" David breathed. "Senseless mayhem… foreshadowing a selfish conquest."

"I didn't ask for this life; I just wanted to live. As a child, I was admittedly blind to the world, but seeing the damage humanity has done, well, me being the man that I am, decided to do something to bring order to this insane world of ours."

"People like you make it insane..."

"I beg to differ. This planet needs to be liberated from it's suffering, and once I destroy my enemies, I can finally make the world a better place."

"A better place for you..." David clarified.

"There is no better way; in the end, humans always kneel."

"Not to people like you..."

Dorian smiled. "You won't find any people like me."

"There are _always_ people like you... David strained, trying his best to sit up. "Mark my words... you'll get what's coming to you… you fucking bastard!" He coughed.

"Not until I shape this world in my image. Now, die..."

Dorian forced Sally into David's chest, wedging it in deep towards his heart. The dry, gritty pain of each twist and turn forced David to breathe his last breaths, whether he liked it or not. The bloodied curdling screams couldn't drown out the pain when Sally tickled the outside of his heart; he tried his very best to keep the blade still.

Despite giving everything he got to survive, Sally did her job. Her razor-sharp edges effortlessly sliced through David's fingers and plunged through his heart. He screamed louder, reaching for Dorian one last time, but things went dark.

David couldn't cry; he couldn't move anything but his hand in the air. Then he saw Dorian's smiling while he gouged Sally into his body; David felt nothing. After his last breath, David surrendering to the dark void. Then... nothing. He couldn't feel anything; nothing mattered.

"He's dead? Already?" Dorian kicked David's body; his body barely moved. "Good! Now no one will stand in my way."

Dorian went to take out another syringe from his pocket, but gunfire from the walkway behind exploded the colourless fluid all over his face. Cass came out of nowhere and gunned Dorian down to his knees without a single word; he bled from the cracks in his armour. Cass pushed forward, leading with her M203 in her other hand.

A grenade soared into the air and struck by Dorian's feet, and in an instant, a glorious explosion rocked his world. Flames charred and scorched Dorian's flesh and obscured his vision, but he stepped through the orange display of napalm with only minor attrition.

"I had nearly forgotten you, cutie," Dorian sneered.

"Fuckin' call me cutie one more time asshole and I'll have your fuckin' nuts!"

"I don't care for your trivial threats..." Dorian stumbled about, vomiting his yellow blood.

"What's happening here?"

Dorian unsheathed his bumper sword. "That serum was the only thing keeping me in check." His footing was confused and staggered, almost drunk-like. "It seems I may have underestimated you, woman."

Cass kept her aim focused on Dorian's, though he made it difficult by forming an impenetrable shield with his sword. She loaded another grenade, but this one struck his sword and erupted loudly in between them both. She couldn't see past the orange blur.

Dorian ripped through and swung his sword at Cass, he thoroughly disarmed her, nearly catching some fingers. At the time his face was open for a well-placed shot with her rifle. Dorian flailed his sword about and randomly struck Cass across the head. Before she could fire again, he kicked her onto a demolished Legion tent.

Dorian was about to hack Cass down to size, but she fired another round clean through his bare neck, forced him to bleed more and pause for just over a second, crying out in frustration. He held his throat yet yellow seeped through the gaps of his fingers. She struck his apple.

This gave enough time for Cass to launch her body's weight at Dorian's waist, wrapping her arms around him to tackle him to the ground. She got on top and restrained his limbs, with his sword out of arm's reach; he was the feeble one. Cass felt like using the butt of her rifle a bludgeoning tool.

First was breaking his nose, loudly crunching it into a yellow paste. Secondly, caving in his forehead, compressing it lethally closer to the brain. Lastly, a blow to the jaw, breaking apart most of his teeth. Dorian growled with every hit to the face.

It took several beatings for Dorian to kick Cass off him and onto the totalled tent. After he destroyed Cass' hunting rifle, he reclaimed his sword. In the time he raised his weapon over Cass' head, she knew it was over for her - the dizziness was a red flag.

Suddenly, a bullet had shot Dorian's sword clean from his hand and then again through his left eye. It was Boone, stationed from atop a hill next to the campsite; then Veronica came running in from the camp's centre. They both opened fire on Dorian without a pause, superheated blue beams and hefty .308 staggered him over David's body. He backed away while shielding his face.

Cass made a move for Sally. Without skipping a beat, she tore it from David's fingertips and wedged it into Dorian's stomach during his distraction. During a temporary ceasefire, Cass forced Sally straight through Dorian's gut, all the way to her hand. He protested through blustering threats and heating growls, however, that just made her livid, so, she pushed him away.

"There's three of us and one of you, asshole..." Cass growled. "It's over!"

Dorian grunted. "Then bring some more friend and it'll be an even fight..." He grabbed Sally's hilt and tried to pull her out.

Cass snarled, darting forward to stop Dorian. She gripped Sally's hilt and challenged his strength. After some faltering resistance, Cass ground Sally through Dorian's internal organs, then his ribs, and wriggled it around in his chest. She dug Sally around the massive cavity, hoping to tear out one of his lungs or his heart.

Dorian tried to push Cass away but fell into a shock of the pain he was feeling. He staggered all over the place as Cass would do after a few drinks, so, she let go again. Dorian shuffled about, staring at his wounds, unable to carry on.

"As if you're worth my time..." Dorian uttered.

Cass unslung the caravan shotgun she still had on her back. "Can't you just die already?!"

Dorian snarled. "I'm taking the lot of you with me!"

As Dorian was about to dart forward, Cass shot out his left shin, stripping the yellow, ghoulish flesh away with every pellet. And again, shattering his right knee to bloody pieces, bringing him down a peg or two.

As Dorian dropped to his torn knees; his flesh started to resemble slow-roasted pork shoulder that fell from his bones. Dorian furiously cried in defeat, and that's when Cass fired again. That finally knocked him down on his crippled back, far beyond moving.

Cass sneered. "How's that for a cutie?"

Dorian coughed and sputtered. Cass looked down at him with bitter disgust. "What? You never saw the blood and the guts of a pure-blood protohuman before?"

"What the hell are you?" Cass muttered.

"I was to usher a new breed of humanity, with me as their God..." Dorian breathed slowly. "Years of planning all gone because of emotional, simple-minded fools!" He stared at her with his good right eye, that red one.

"Well, _this_ fool kicked your stuck-up ass up and down this little camp of yours. What do you say to that?"

"Your feeble attempts only delay the inevitable." Dorian cackled loudly. "I'll be back more powerful than ever before. Not today. Not tomorrow. But one day in your miserable life, I _will_ return. This is not the end of Dorian Savage!"

"Really? You look pretty dead to me, and no one's gonna miss your ugly ass."

"Trivial insults won't save you, human-"

"Enough of this." Cass put her boot over Dorian's chest, pressing him down. "It's over!"

"Over? You don't think I have a contingency planned for when I'm gone?" Cass decided to let Dorian continue; instead, he giggled like a child.

"Fuck this." Cass aimed her shotgun at Dorian's head.

"War is sleeping, and once she wakes… you'll wish _I_ were the one to kill you..." Dorian laughed maniacally, savouring in his moments.

"Time's up."

Cass executed Dorian. The shotgun blast to his face struck through the vital parts of his forehead, leaving a small pile of flesh and twisted bone out the back. The sight of the yellow slush was almost enough to gag over. For good measure, Cass took out her Browning and let off some potshots into whatever was left of his organic head until he stopped thriving in the dirt.

It was over. Cass breathed slowly, trying to enjoy the sound, taste and feel of a good kill and a deserved victory. The cries and howls coming from Veronica caught Cass' attention as she was about to turn around.

Dorian wasn't the only one killed in battle; it came at a high cost - David's own life. It was a price no one wanted to pay, whether it was for the greater good or not. Losing David struck Cass' heart with sincere regret.

Up close, David's suffering was the worst part about his demise; he died slowly and with immeasurable pain. His body's blood was beaten from him, parts of his stripped flesh fell from his bones, and the gaping wound where his heart should be was excavated. There was barely enough of him to bury.

"David?" Veronica shook David's lifeless body. "David?" She shook him again harder. "David?!" David's head rolled back under its weight.

Cass got on her knees and brushed David's auburn hair lightly. "David… I'm sorry," she whispered, with tears running down her cheek. "I'm sorry..." she sobbed.


	6. Like a pheonix from the ashes

Back at the camp, N.C.R. reinforcements lead by General Oliver marched to the front gate and began to heave the Legion's deceased into a pile. The inner gate was where the N.C.R. neatly laid out their fallen soldiers so that they can be sent back to their homes.

Field medics carried William and Lyannah out of the camp with stretchers; the two were barely alive. Cass, Veronica and Boone presented themselves to Oliver; he was distraught when he found out that Redfield and David were both killed in action.

A burst of lightning struck one of the higher points of the hills that surrounded the camp. Oliver pulled up his collars and put a cigarette in his mouth. "The price of this battle was too much; I'd rather lose the Dam a hundred times over if it meant I could keep General Redfield."

Cass lowered her head. "He knew what he signed up for, just like everyone else."

"Securing N.C.R.'s future is no easy task, for what it's worth, our administration sends their deepest gratitude and sympathies to the lot of you. Mostly, you, Mrs Wesker; your husband was one of the best soldiers we had in a long time. In his honour, the republic owes you a substantial favour."

Cass nodded, not thinking of anything to say to help ease her guilt.

"What'll happen now, sir?" Boone asked.

"The N.C.R. will clean up the mess the Legion made here and then we'll put our attention to the casualties. With Redfield gone, I'll have to double down on my effort to help the N.C.R. find its feet."

Boone held Cass is his arms; she was distraught. "Could take decades, Redfield was a living legend."

"There was no other way this could've ended; he died for the greater good - for the people." Oliver lit his cigarette.

From the dust behind Cass, Boone and Veronica was a figure. Redfield strode over to Oliver, still wearing his battle-worn armour and helmet. Other than the dried blood all over him, Redfield appeared as healthy as one could be. He walked quickly over to the Oliver and the small crowd at the inner gate.

Oliver's lit cigarette dropped from his open mouth. "Redfield?"

Cass, Boone and Veronica peered over their shoulders. "Sir," Boone exclaimed, "you're alive!"

"But how?" Oliver questioned.

"My death was greatly exaggerated, Oliver. Where is David?"

Oliver hesitated. "I'm sorry, Redfield. I'm afraid he's-"

"I know he's dead, damn it!" Redfield loosened his shoulders, sighing intensely. "I want to see his body."

Oliver looked over Redfield's shoulder, seeing two men walk in their direction from the left campsite. "Here he is now…"

Two rangers carried David on a stretcher; shifting quickly about and presenting his lifeless body to Redfield. After a deep sigh, Redfield held David's hand; it was hard for him to think of the right words to say.

Mouth agape, blood slowly running out of his open wounds, David's condition was just horrible. Redfield saw a lot of death before, but this gruesome sight tugged his heartstrings. David's face was frozen with cold fear, and his armour was barely salvageable.

"This young man was my son. I wasn't around the day he was born, nor I was around for his teen years, but I loved him, and his mother." Redfield nodded. "David was one of the finest men I ever worked with, a true soldier… now he's finally at rest with his mother." He took off his helmet.

"Redfield?" Oliver uttered, with concern.

"I want to see David with my own eyes."

Redfield exposed his face once again, to Oliver, Cass, Boone and Veronica. It was more than an honour to see the legend's face in person. Though his face hadn't aged a day over twenty, he looked very young, no wrinkles liver spots or any signs of old age. He didn't look like how he was made out to be - a grizzled veteran.

His jaw and chin were sharp, his hair was auburn and full thick, complementing his golden eyes. The new, younger Redfield was the picture of youth, despite his service years. A heartthrob came to mind, a dreamboat no less. It was hard to look away.

"Redfield, you're looking well..." Oliver admitted, with a smile.

"I don't feel any different." Redfield checked his reflection in his helmet's lens.

Redfield felt his nose and mouth; he wasn't amazed. Redfield's mind was clear on one thing, though, Sarkis' punishment left him as he was before his apotheosis - superhuman. Young. Fresh. Normal... Just like the final days of 1998.

Boone placed his hand on Redfield's shoulder. "Sir, are you okay? You seem strange."

Redfield shrugged Boone's hand from his shoulder. "I'm healthy, let's leave it at that." He noticed the four of them were staring at him. "Can we please move on? It's been a long day."

"Of course, Redfield."

"Call me Wesker, Zachariah Wesker."

Oliver picked up his cigarette and put it back in his mouth, not before rubbing the dirt off the butt. "Anything you say... Wesker."

Zaac stared down at David's lifeless face. "Send your mother my regards, my son." He sighed heavily and nearly began to sob. "I love you…"

"Anything I can do for you, Wesker?" Oliver asked.

Zaac placed his helmet on David's chest. "It's been a bad day, Oliver. Bring our wounded and casualties back to the Dam." The rangers went to take David's body away, but Zaac stopped them.

"Could you leave my son here, please? I need a moment alone."

"Anything for you... Wesker." Oliver lit his cigarette. "What do you want us to do with the legate?"

Zaac turned around; his face ran red with anger. "I want that fucking bastard burned at stake!"

"At once, Wesker." Oliver instructed the rangers to set David's body down at Zaac's feet; then they scurried off out of sight.

"Redfield?" Cass mumbled.

"Wesker," Zaac corrected, kneeling at David's body.

"Why the name change?"

Zaac shook his head. "Another time, Cass. Could you and the others make your way back to the Dam for debriefing please?"

Cass reached out for Zaac but retracted her hand. Boone and Veronica took her away. "Come on, Cass, let's go," Boone said, as all three of them left Zaac's sight.

"I failed you... you trusted me, and I failed you... I wasn't strong enough to stop any of this..." Zaac rubbed David's cheeks and brushed his hair; he was cold. "Rest in peace, my son; your pain and suffering is over." Zaac stood up, looking down at the only thing that gave his life meaning - the light shining in his darkness. "I'll see you on the other side, David…"


	7. Ending speech

Less than an hour passed since the defeat of Caesar's Legion, still the same day of the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. The day was still bright with the sun's rays blazing Hoover Dam's surface. The weather was just mild enough to have a nice stroll back to the Dam after such a horrible battle full of death and decay; the walk was that long.

General Wesker stayed close to his dead son's body; four N.C.R. troops had to carry his stretcher, he was wearing a battered power armour at the time of his murder by Legate Lanius, so his corpse was heavy.

There was a lot of traffic on the way back, but Zaac didn't mind, the people wanted to come back to their homes and families that were apparently on everybody's mind at the current moment. Husbands, wives, brothers, sisters and kids all alike were coming home.

Not this man, though, David died in the line of fire against one of the world's biggest tyrants of the Old World, a Horsemen of the Apocalypse not too long ago. Zaac took this moment alone to be with his thoughts of David.

What memories could a father that outlived his entire family come up with before the speech? Yes, he has to make another speech; each battle needed one as a debriefing for all personnel involved.

David was an embodiment of a perfect man at the height of his age and health. A loving family, respectable career and excitement around every corner. What went wrong, you would ask? Umbrella Incorporated. Their greed ended many innocent lives, and David was unfortunately just another casualty like many before him.

The Dam's visitor centre was in sight. Large white tents were set up across the road, courtesy of the Followers of the Apocalypse, a long row took up the entire route all the way. It could take actual minutes to see where it ends.

Colonel Moore was seen setting safe parameters around the Dam, mostly assembling troops to safeguard the area, to protect the injured and the doctors. The Followers were doing a good job bringing in the wounded; it was worth keeping them around, even if most of the wounds were all minor.

Like gunshots, cuts and slight dismemberment, most people were to be sent home with full honours. Then there was the matter of Cass, Lyannah and Agent Six; their wounds were critical or worse.

Thankfully, like a guardian angel, Julie Farkas was there at the scene labelling off the troops as they come through. She seemed to have her eyes focused on healing everyone as quickly as possible; she settled to keeping things orderly. Zaac approached Julie from behind, and over her shoulder, he noticed she hadn't even marked off a third of the troops on her clipboard.

Julie saw how stunning Zaac looked; she had never seen him so healthy before - he was like a new man. Before Julie was about to say something, the four troops carrying David passed by, her wandering eyes then found the body they were moving. Julie's emotions fell south, her lips trembled, and her hands twitched - tears ran down her soft cheeks.

General Oliver directed Zaac away towards the staging area. He made sure that William, Lyannah and Cass got immediate treatment for their wounds from their best physician and moved into a separate tent.

Suddenly swarms of N.C.R. citizens, personnel and troops began to fill the area by the stage; they were here for the speech. This just got in the way of their healing by gathering up in all of the open spaces.

Colonel Moore left some troops to set a parameter around Hoover Dam to section it from the public and took centre stage, General Oliver took two metal folding chairs and set one on each side of Moore. Two microphones were set up on the podium, one was to address the people viewing, and the other was to be broadcast on the N.C.R. radio for the N.C.R. settlements to hear.

The podium wasn't as good as the stocky wooden ones seen in pre-war courts, though this was a good speech about celebration and success and not about law and order dribble.

With slow steps up to the stage all eyes focused on Zaac, it felt as horrible as always, people's views drift into judgemental stares of mixed emotions. Moore was perplexed with Redfield's new appearance, he was as young as herself and not the three-hundred-year-old man she fell for the day before.

With a sigh, Zaac waved off Moore's bewilderment and took the seat opposite Oliver to Moore's left, she took centre stage and was the first to draw a breath on the microphones. After some moderate feedback, she tested the quality and marched on with a long-dreaded speech.

Colonel Moore's voice was as clear as it was up close in person; the microphones did their job. The individuals in the viewing area settled to hear the speech. "Ladies and gentlemen," she addressed, "Boys and girls. Brothers and sisters. I am Colonel Cassandra Moore, of the New California Republic. I wish to be the first member of the N.C.R. Council to congratulate all the fine service you all contributed to the cause of the protection of the Mojave and its ideals."

"What has been done today will never be forgotten as now the people of this exceptional republic can rest easy," Moore continued, clearing her dry throat and licking her lips. "The defeat of Caesar's Legion will bring in a brighter future for the Mojave, and it's up to us to make it last. Now some words from General Red-" She cleared her throat. "From General Wesker."

The entire crowd of the viewing area cheered and clapped as Moore and Zaac swapped seats. Zaac smiled when he saw all the bright faces of the people he serves, that was the appreciation he always desired.

He was their shield, and they are his soul. He cleared his throat and adjusted the microphones to his mouth's level. "Thank you, Colonel Moore. Simmer down everyone, please..." The crowd's applause and praises slowly died and ended with the quiet sounds of murmurs and whispers. Redfield didn't have his helmet on, so there was room for discussion. He picked up on that.

"Good evening to all N.C.R. citizens," he announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of all the Mojave and the people, it is my pleasure to declare victory over the second and final battle for Hoover Dam. Victory is ours! Unfortunately, we cannot forget the bitter fact that what comes with great victory comes with an even greater defeat; a hefty loss has befallen our forces as the fatalities have increased significantly." Zaac cleared his throat, the speech was going to be a long one, and his throat was already croaking. Young body, old parts.

"There should be a lot of people here today that aren't..." Zaac continued, "This final battle has cost the lives of many young, eager soldiers and citizens alike - even my own flesh and blood has been spilt by the enemy. In turn, the battle has also cost the life of one of our newly assigned members of the N.C.R. Secret Service..." He frowned. "Agent David Wesker died to bring the battle to a close, and his team were lucky to be alive amongst the chaos, but that's war for you. Good men and women doing their jobs for a noble cause, for the benefits of the people, and dying in the name of good and righteous." Tears started to form under his eyes; the talks of his son dying again just never makes it easy for him; he had to stay firm. He wiped the tears with a flourish of his hand and marched on. Then the sound of forced silence ensued.

"In light of the battle," Zaac continued, again, trying his best to stay peppy, "this is a time for celebration, we'll mourn and weep for those we lost in our yearly memorials, and we'll honour their memories in melody. Caesar's Legion was at the peak of their strength when they enlisted the monster of the east as their new legate. Legate Lanius was one of the biggest tyrants of the Old World, and his torment is at long last over! With all of our combined strength and support, we forced the Legion into a full-scale retreat across the Wastelands. As long as our forces hold the Dam, our people will never have to live in fear of terrorism or slavery!" His tone of voice was going husky, needed to wrap it up soon or get a glass of water. Whatever first.

"To honour this feat, I hereby pronounce every March eleventh to be Ultima Equities! A day off for everyone, to commemorate the day Legate Lanius fell!" The crowd began to talk among themselves, and some even began to cheer and whistle. He'd get the occasional cat-whistle from lucky ladies. "In the defeat of Legate Lanius, the future will be a brighter one. My only regret was that the price tag for this victory was unsatisfactory. In the honour of our fallen, I vow to make the Wasteland great again. Next fortnight on Sunday, the twenty-fifth, I declare a staff party at all N.C.R. settlements!" He leant forward closer to the microphone that broadcast over the radio. "And if any fine citizens happen to be at the Dam, they'll have the pleasure of partying with me." He cleared his throat again and stood back straight. "I'll arrange for registered lookouts for every settlement, just to make it fair for everyone." The sounds of the crowd began to fade again; they needed more.

"All expenses will be funded by me, General Wesker. After all, what good is money if you don't spend it." The crowd cheered even more. Howling and tears of joy were seen in the masses. The smiles and beauty of the people's faces reminded Zaac who he fights for and what burdens he carries. He wondered if it was all worth it, but he knew the answer to that.

"This is General Wesker signing off. Have a nice day everyone." Zaac adjusted the microphone for the radio and left the podium and swapped seats with Oliver. Oliver had to calm them down to an orderly sense, it's not every day the N.C.R. gets a staff party at Hoover Dam.

"Just for the record, the N.C.R. don't usually condone staff parties of this magnitude, though there's a first time for everything. But General… Wesker did forget to mention that we require a report and a status update from all the team leaders. Please hand them to him, Colonel Moore or myself within the next twenty-four hours.

"That is all; you are all dismissed." The crowd started to disperse in every direction. Some troops lingered around the staging area; some were still cheering and jumping about overhearing the staff party - probably because it's free.

Zaac left the stage and waved away Moore and Oliver; they went straight back into the Dam. He headed back to Julie, she and the Followers were just disbanding back into their white tents shortly after the speech. Julie wasn't outside; she was personally treating Lyannah, William and Cass because she was one of the best physicians in the Wasteland and a good friend of his - also too busy for pep talk.

He called for two troopers to stand to watch outside; they weren't really doing anything other than staring into open space. After a short breath, he stepped into the tent; immediately, his eyes stared at the horrors of war.

Bloodied, abused, and broken soldiers, Lyannah and William were in critical condition. Cass wasn't too good either. They were tucked into beds and had a machine next to them, showing their current health. The worst was Lyannah, but they were on the road to staying alive.

Julie had her back facing Zaac; she was too focused on the written details on her clipboard. William had broken ribs and other bones with some bullet wounds scattered over his limbs, Cass got lucky with only a few broken ribs. Lyannah had bandages over her broken nose and hands. Her wounds were still bleeding, red bandages were seen in the medicinal bin.

By Julie was a metal table with new surgical tools resting on it, there was a bloody tray of even more of them. The cabinet underneath looked like it was locked. There were no X-rays or proper equipment, the N.C.R. wouldn't have time to make the many trips it would require, and they got what they can get in the time they had. It was barely enough.

"How are they?" Zaac asked.

"Stable…" Julie uttered. "Six and Cass are recovering from the medication I gave them but… Lyannah's wounds were the most severe."

"How severe are we talking?"

Julie took a quick read from her clipboard. "The bones and ligament in her right hand are destroyed, eight fractured ribs in her chest, an open wound in her stomach and her heart and liver are dangerously close to rupturing from their damage."

"Sorry I asked…"

"A bullet had torn through her liver, and when she was brought to me, she had a bladed weapon thrust into through her chest. I thought she was dead on arrival, but I kept her blade where it was before I performed the surgery. I don't know how she's even still alive."

"Will she make it?"

"She's in a coma for the time being… I did everything I can for her to live but only time will tell if she'll pull through. Six and Cass, on the other hand, will make a full recovery when the medication wears off. They need their rest."

Zaac placed his hands on Julie's shoulders and stood firmly. "You're a fantastic doctor, perhaps one of the best in this entire country."

"That's a tall compliment."

"You deserve it, Julie, you, and the Followers earned all my praise."

"You're too kind."

"I'm going to present the Followers a personal gift of mine, and you a personal favour."

"What is the gift?"

"My one of a kind Auto-Doc. Fresh and brand new, completely free for Follower use." Julie stood in silence. She tried to smile but withdrew. "No words, Doctor?"

"I should be excited right now, but..." she sighed, moving away Zaac's hands from her shoulder. She turned around to see him better, awkwardly staring at his features.

"What? Have I got shit on my face?"

"No… Up close your face is just…"

"Yeah… It's as beautiful as my voice. Guess you noticed before the speech. Right?"

"I did, but I only caught bits and pieces of your speech before I got to work. There was one part I caught though, about you being General Wesker and not Redfield. Who are you, really?"

"Redfield was my wife's maiden name; I used it because of... religious reasons. My real name is Zachariah Wesker."

Julie's eyes rolled away from Zaac's and down to her clipboard. Her lip was quivering still. "It's nice to see you're healthy, General..."

"Is something bothering you?"

Julie looked up. "What?"

"Something's bothering you, I can sense it. What's wrong?" Julie said nothing. She looked like she was going to, but there was no audio from her. Something was on her mind. "Julie..." Zaac rested his hand softly on Julie's shoulder. "If there's something on your mind, please tell me."

Julie's silence ended "Some troops carrying someone in power armour concerned me when they passed by me earlier. I heard you mention... well… I know it's none of my business as a Follower but…" She frowned. "Was the man in power armour David Wesker?"

Zaac lost his grin, and his shoulders dragged. "Yes." He sighed. "Agent Wesker was one of the casualties."

"Was he a relative of yours?"

"Son."

Julie froze from the surprise of hearing Zaac's confession, understanding that the dead man was actually his offspring was impossible. There was barely a year between them. "How is that possible?"

"Don't even go there, it's complicated as fuck."

"I will take your word for it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss."

"As my therapist, you certainly know that I lost a lot more than my own son." Zaac shrugged, keeping his best smile. "Thanks for your sympathies, Doctor, they mean a lot to me."

"What happened to him?"

Zaac sighed again. "Agent Wesker led a team towards the Legate's Camp. They managed to kill Legate Lanius and force the Legion into a glorious retreat, but it cost my son his life. Agent Six, Lyannah, Mr Boone, Miss Santiego and Mrs Wesker were lucky to be alive after David's sacrifice."

"Mrs Wesker?"

"Cass and David were married last Wednesday or Thursday - I dunno when."

"Good for them, it's nice to love blossoming but damn... So these three were part of his team then."

"Yes, they were. If it weren't for their support, David wouldn't have softened the legate for them to finish off. They're all heroes."

"I hope David's death was quick." Julie had no idea how wrong she was on that one. Zaac retracted his arm and started to tear up slightly, thinking of David's murder.

"I take it you knew him?"

"He showed his face a few times at the Mormon Fort; he made a good impression. David asked around if we needed help for no reward, just to help - can you believe it?"

"I can, that's how Claire and I raised him; she'd be so proud."

Julie wandered to a nearby table and left her clipboard on it next to a tray of surgical equipment. She rubbed her eyes. "He was Follower material… I was going to ask him to join… now he's gone. Such a waste of human life. He didn't deserve to die so soon." She turned around and leant on the table and folded her arms tightly. "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

"Only the better to test and evolve the nature of people, Julie. Listen I got schedules and rotas to make for the staff party and then I'm sure the N.C.R. Council has mountains of paperwork for me to file… I gotta go."

"It's time I get around to reviving the patients anyway. It was good talking to you, Wesker."

It wasn't easy being called that. Wesker was a child-murdering psychopath that wanted nothing but to have the rights to become a God, much like Dorian to David. They were close, though, they were father and son, no matter how much he didn't want it to be - much like Zaac and his own father.

Wesker's name was an insult, but it was easier to go by. Better to use the birth name than the name of a woman he once loved, to be reminded of ancient history. To be reminded of her murder…

"You too, Julie. I won't keep you. Good day."


	8. Epilogue

****END CREDITS****

Scene: Colonel Moore standing outside Lucky 38

MISTER NEW VEGAS (NARRATE)

The New California Republic celebrated its second victory at Hoover Dam, establishing definitive control over the entire Mojave and Capital Wasteland. Soon after, they negotiated terms to annex The Strip, Freeside and many surrounding communities. The Wasteland, at long last, had entirely fallen under the N.C.R.'s banner.

Scene: Ambassador Crocker shaking hands with Courier Six, with Lyannah stood at his side.

MISTER NEW VEGAS (NARRATE)

Courier Six and Lyannah, fair and evenhanded in their dealings throughout the Wasteland, was honoured by the N.C.R. for their support of military at Hoover Dam, sometime after they resigned. They were presented with the Golden Branch, the highest civilian decoration given by the Republic.

Scene: A grayscale photo from the early 1950s of Victor Romanov and his student James Marcus, outside a forgotten university.

MASTER VICTOR ROMANOV (NARRATE)

With all means to survive foiled by General Wesker, Victor had no communication to the outside world. Below the Lucky 38 is where the ancient CEO of the Neo-Umbrella Corporation spent the rest of his days, alone and forgotten. Being driven insane from the degeneration of the Progenitor virus, his demise was a long one, ignored and neglected by all those who once cared for the famed Mr House of RobCo. After avoiding death countless times, he finally played his last card.

Scene: Two Brotherhood paladins out patrolling the waste.

ELDER DOLAN MCNAMARA (NARRATE)

The Brotherhood and the N.C.R. in the Mojave declared an official truce, despite continued hostilities between the two in the west. As per the agreement, the N.C.R. handed out all suits of salvaged power armour, and in return, the Brotherhood helped patrol the I-15 and Highway 95. The truce is to be reinforced in the Capital, to then slowly bring order to the savage Wastelands.

Scene: Julie Farkas stood in front of General Wesker in the Old Mormon Fort.

DOCTOR JULIE FARKAS (NARRATE)

After the N.C.R.'s victory at the Dam, in part thanks to Follower medical support and services for N.C.R. personnel, they made a name for themselves to the N.C.R. Council. So much, in fact, they strongly urged to allow the Followers to care for refugees as they see fit. With the investments over the years from General Wesker, the Mormon Fort expanded its service and was able to give more, becoming a refuge for the less fortunate. Out of kindness and respect, General Wesker, donated his personal Auto-Doc, the last Nexus Incubator, and the gesture put the Followers back on the map.

Scene: The outside of the Prospector Saloon in Goodsprings.

DOCTOR MITCHELL (NARRATE)

Goodsprings saw more trading along the I-15 after N.C.R. gained control of the Mojave, but with what came a heavy burden to the Republic's taxes. The N.C.R. put Goodsprings under their supervision for many unknown reasons; what was certain is that the security and price of taxes were fair for its citizens.

Scene: An image of dinky the dinosaur of Novac.

JEANNIE MAY CRAWFORD (NARRATE)

Though Novac was a low priority target for the Legion, many of Novac's citizens died in its defence. In the weeks that followed, several Bright Followers returned to Novac to help restore its defences, allowing it to remain independent of the N.C.R.

Scene: Julie Farkas stood outside Hoover Dam.

DOCTOR JULIE FARKAS (NARRATE)

Finding that David had perished during the second battle, it was no surprise that she was distraught over the way he suffered in his final moments. He was Follower material, and to that day, she would never forget him for the sacrifices he selflessly made. Julie signed him off as a genuine Follower.

Scene: Colonel Moore kissing General Wesker under a large tree.

COLONEL CASSANDRA MOORE (NARRATE)

Shortly after the Second Battle for Hoover Dam, both Colonel Moore and General Wesker announced their love for each other and wed the following week. Human life was too short. Life was full of difficulties, and without the feelings it brought with them, their love would never mean to be, and their future would never be tied together. Confidant, friend, lover... those words meant little now compared to the wife of the legendary General Redfield. Never took the Wesker name, but she never really needed to. That was certain. It was her choice.

Scene: Sunny Smiles shaking hands with General Wesker

SUNNY SMILES (NARRATE)

For the safety of Goodsprings, Sunny was thankful to see that the N.C.R. has won again, better them than the Legion as she would always say. She was devastated to hear from General Wesker that David was among the casualties. With a tear, she had only found out that she and her sister, Amanda, were David's direct descendants and heirs to General Wesker's fortune. Strangely, Sunny turned down her inheritance and stated that she had lived it all already. General Wesker respected her decision and left Goodsprings, setting the sizable sum for Sunny's estranged daughter in the near future.

Scene: Arcade Gannon stood outside Freeside's gate.

ARCADE GANNON (NARRATE)

Arcade had hoped that Freeside would remain independent of N.C.R rule, but he was glad that Caesar's Legion was stopped from taking Hoover Dam. Arcade tended to the sick in Freeside a while longer in Julie's absence, then returned to N.C.R. territory to become a teacher with the Followers there. When he found out his colleague bit the big one, the good doctor mourned over the loss of David for days thereafter. In the dark tunnel, there was a light source. It was joyful to hear he had a potential fatherly figure in General Wesker's office, so it wasn't all sad. Arcade heard stories about his ancestor and his legacy in medical science, biology and virology; precisely a Dr Scott Wesker and began learning from his scattered pre-war notes that the old hermit hid away.

Scene: Craig Boone aiming his Hunting rifle at a distant threat.

CRAIG BOONE (NARRATE)

Looking for a place where he could be of some use, Boone re-enlisted with his old unit. Though his regrets remained in his thoughts, they coalesced into a purpose, and Boone embraced it. He spent his time hunting down slavers in the desert; his First Recon beret would be the last thing they never saw. With the advice taken from his compatriot David, was words of a similarly torn soul. Those words moulded Boone to move on, but with his death, it wasn't enough. General Wesker took an interest in Boone's capabilities and offered to continue where his son left off. With his admiration of the general's feats, Boone accepted his help.

Scene: Sharon Wesker stood idle in the Mojave Desert.

SHARON WESKER (NARRATE)

Cass moved on from the caravan business for the time being and spent her days drifting outpost to outpost, scrounging for cheap drinks and parties. When rumours of a conspiracy lingering around Cassidy Caravans arose, Cass took action, with the help from Courier Six they uncovered a private deal that ended her career, plus many others. The case is currently being investigated by the N.C.R. authorities, despite her temptation to kill the perpetrators herself.

Scene: Sharon Wesker stood staring at Hoover Dam in the distance.

Cass lived to see the N.C.R. flag flying proudly over Hoover Dam and thought for a moment that this is what a hero felt like. Walking the Dam drunk, content and happy to be alive, she knew that was the point of it all. However, nothing could mask the realisation of losing David to the legate; all the alcohol she drank could barely hide her true feeling of losing the only man she had enjoyed spending time with. Cass kept her gold wedding ring by her rose pendant around her neck; there was no real need to have David holding her back anymore, it was death 'till we part for a reason, and she remembered vowing that on their wonderful night of pleasure and lust. It was back to her old life for her now, alcohol and sex-fueled parties aplenty. Some thought she was in denial; others thought she was better than ever; however, in reality, she was conflicted with her feelings but was happy to have another reason to drink.

Scene: Veronica Santiego stood by a Brotherhood banner.

VERONICA SANTIEGO (NARRATE)

The peace with N.C.R. served to ease Veronica's worries about the Brotherhood's immediate future. Still, a distance has arisen between her and her fellow members that would never be bridged. Veronica began secluding herself in crumbling libraries of the Old World, learning of promised technologies she knew the Brotherhood would never adapt. Taking a page from David, the tech of the early 21st century piqued her interest in the pre-war lifestyle, the one she wished she saw for herself. David promised he'd take care of her but wasn't able to keep that promise; she wasn't mad; he died a hero and took care of the N.C.R. and their best interests. That was worth giving up a pledge.

Scene: Courier Six kissing Lyannah, in The Tops casino.

WILLIAM HAYDOCK (NARRATE)

William didn't overstay his welcome at Hoover Dam, though he stayed long enough to bask in the glory of the victory. William returned to the courier business after it began to soar in business, during the time he was recovering in the N.C.R.'s infirmary. Agent Six now back to being plain, old Courier Six, he kept Lyannah close by while he lived a productive yet stable life of drifting town to town. Six seen his fair share of war, losing David was one he could've done without. They were the same in most aspects, fighting for what's right, standing up for the weak, just for a better world. William raised his glass in his honour and continued his career with his new love, Lyannah.

Scene: Lyannah forging a bladed weapon at a workbench.

LYANNAH GOLDEN-TONGUE (NARRATE)

The victory at Hoover Dam was just another feat to chalk up to her Dragonborn legacy. Lyannah spent most of the trivial success still learning of the means to survive the Wasteland, the magicka she inevitably relies upon dried up during the fight with the legate, forcing her to stay longer than the expected. The information she took in may have been mostly from pre-war books, she never gave up on finding her way home, even going as far as bothering the ex-Demigod General Wesker… to no avail, it was pointless for now. With William at her side, the courier life wasn't a boring one, especially when she finally fell for his charm.

Scene: Lyannah conjuring fire from her fingertips.

Lyannah never forgot about her brushes with death; each one only made her stronger, the brush she faced with Legate Lanius arguably being the worst one of them all. Karstaag, Miraak, Harkon, Alduin, that unknown Ebony Warrior and even her ex-wife Countess Deena, all fell to her in the heat of glorious battles back in the land of Skyrim. Only this time not only barely survived a confrontation with Legate Lanius she had lost the friendship of an exceptional soldier. David wasn't her favourite person, but she risked her life to prolong his. Why? Maybe she held some feelings for him, or maybe because he was a good man like William and was willing to go the extra mile for the ones worth the extra effort. That's the life of a Dragonborn. Hard choices, excitement and even a side of challenge. The good life.

Scene: Zachary Wesker holding hands with his then-girlfriend Claire Redfield, in the year 1997. Both were in casual wear.

GENERAL ZACHARIAH WESKER (NARRATE)

Being over three hundred years of age, those years of experience just couldn't help Zaac move on from the tragic loss of David. Zaac already lost his life, career and future to War, and now his long-lost son to Conquest. Zaac only just got over the depression, and with David gone his heart split in two, with half his days back in depression and the other leading the N.C.R., it left no time to recover. In the time after the second battle, Zaac sought Julie Farkas again to help him get over David's murder. Like getting over the deaths of his entire family, he eventually got over it, not without some sacrifices of his own.

Scene: Legate Lanius' body burning on a pile of burning wood.

Setting the end of the war between Neo-Umbrella and STARS, Zaac roasted Dorian Savage's body over an open fire and watched his flesh burn away to ash, leaving his bones and armour over the dying flame. All Horsemen of the Apocalypse were finally gone, with Conquest being the last. The burning of the legate's body sealed the end for Caesar's Legion as their remaining forces went underground, to never be heard from again. Those were proven correct when all Legion settlements retreated, leaving most of the Mojave empty.

Scene: General Wesker standing over a fresh grave.

To honour his son's sacrifice, Zaac made plans to erect a statue of David; it would have him in full STARS combat armour, holding up Legate Lanius' helmet with both hands. In weeks it was finished just by his grave at Hoover Dam, the plaque stated, "The right man, woman or thing at the wrong time or place can make the difference our Gods and masters expect from us". In the time it took to make David's, Zaac released a new form of N.C.R. currency in David's memory, the help from William and Lyannah wasn't ignored either. A brand new $500 paper bill was released, with David on the bill's face and Lyannah and William featured on the back - vowing their efforts to be immortalised.

Scene: The new $500 NCR bill on a plain trader's table.

Zaac put his new life into restoring America, for the sake of being at peace with the sins he accumulated. This time he can finally let go and begin again - like he did several lifetimes before in the days of the old. Only this time, he was truly alone, Sarkis' actions were no longer looming over him; he was a free man once again.

Scene: A portrait of Sarkis. Arms folded, black and white wings spread out.

SARKIS (NARRATE)

Not a day goes past where Sarkis doesn't regret his lack of foresight. Losing against War, unintentionally causing the death of millions maybe billions, and even breaking the rules. He faced the music and took his harsh sentence on the chin, like he regretted not doing sooner. There was no sense of time in the realm known as Limbo. No feeling of hunger. Tiredness. Pain. Nothing. Everything that made a person feel alive was gone. For the first few days in the void, Sarkis' heart yearned for Zachariah, then shortly after, he just started losing his mind. Wandering souls did little to entertain him. No familiar voices but his own. He walked on and on in one direction and never stopped.

Scene: A pre-war picture of David Wesker holding hands with this then-wife, Samantha Simpson next to a picture of him holding hands with Cass.

MISTER NEW VEGAS (NARRATE)

Now at peace, David rests with the rest of his family above the clouds, in the world beyond theirs. David's torment was over at long last after his grizzly adventures. People come and go in life, like in the days of the old, but this was never a place for old men, only young men and old tricks.

 ** **THE END?****


	9. Wild encounter (NSFW)

Two weeks later...

"Will!" Cass yelled, jiggling the door handle. "William! Six! Open the door! It's me, Cass!" No answer from the small room. The door was locked, and the walls were thick cobblestone. _Is he that deaf? He did drink a lot of wine, only because he allowed himself to celebrate._

The early night was as warm as always. The last few weeks were tough enough on Cass, entirely unforgiven in some ways. She was sure this was the right room in the barracks, there were only seven, eight or maybe twenty rooms lined up in the Dam. Of course, some tents outside had to be set up for the Dam's visitors, the ones that only stayed for General Wesker's huge staff party. The one he said during that speech weeks ago. Six has to be in one of the new rooms. It was cold outside.

The party, though, legendary was an _understatement_. From 7 PM to 7 AM the next day the party raged on - lights, music and the Dam's weight in pure grain alcohol. You couldn't pay to keep people like Cass away from that. Only when she decided to knock on for her friend Courier Six, she took some time off to try and fit in more whiskey. Sex was on the mind; she was already crazy drunk.

Cass kicked down the iron door with a sloppy kick, on the fourth try around the flimsy pre-war brass handle and broken it off. She batted away the door and stood before a lone figure under the covers of a yellow queen-sized bed. She clutched tightly on a half-empty bottle of vodka and quickly swirled another half of that down; she jumbled some words around in her mouth. Had a speech she was planning for the last ten minutes.

"William, it's Cass, and I've got something to say to you," she slurred, "You're missing the party downstairs and the one in my pants. The Dam is filled to the brim with drunk, horny soldier dudes and bitches and I'm freaking drunk and horny as fuck!" No response from under the covers. Apart from that other guy she couldn't remember, Davis or something, William, Lyannah and she were still the heroes of the second battle.

"We've known each other for nearly a year now, and since we've kicked the Legion's ass, I knew you always had the hots for me. That is my only pitch for you! I'm gonna fuck you like we just won a war because we freakin' did against the biggest gang of raping assholes, and if that bitch Lyannah gets in the way she can join in too! You take me, and we'll fuckin' do it right here and right now!" Still no answer.

The figure in the bed mumbled and rolled over under the sheets. Cass took a few steps closer and set her bottle of vodka down on the nightstand. "Can't hear a word you're saying, Six."

Without another sound, an arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her out of sight and under the covers. _Now that's more like it. I can feel his chest and groin grinding against my back. That was definately more like it! Warm body, nice biceps, smooth jawline… Something was off… Six's hair wasn't this long_.

Cass tried to pull away, but the figure in the bed held fast, the fingers dug into her waist. "Wrong room, woman," hissed the man, in an oddly familiar voice, she couldn't quite place beneath. All those vodka sours didn't help.

"Then who the fuck are you?" Cass tried to squirm away but ceased as a knife was pressed up against her throat, below her chin.

"How did you put it so nicely a minute ago? Ah, yes. A member of the biggest gang of raping bastards."

 _For God's sake. A Dam full of people and I kicked the door of some Legion fuckhead. Thankfully the Legion isn't too bright, so maybe I could weasel my way out with a careful choice of words. Hopefully not some drunk ones_. "Fuck."

"Do you not remember me, Rose of Sharon Cassidy?" the Legionary said.

Cass knew this voice. Like warm honey over gravel. Horrible words with a sweet tone. Fuck. It was of the leaders. The spy. Vulpes-something. She cast an inappropriate glare at his mug yet never spoke or interacted with him in any way. William and someone else told or warned her about this man. His words could warp and rape the minds of the weak-minded. _Great predicament you walked into here Cass. Drunk Cass was never to be trusted._

"Oh, doghead guy. Didn't someone… kill you somewhere before?" she said conversationally, shifting away from his knife, "Someone in a red beret? Ringing any bells?"

"There were over a hundred soldiers dispatched during that battle all across the Wasteland wearing vexillarius helmets, and sunglasses. I had more important things to do than to take potshots at grunts. Suffice to say; I ironically was left behind by my subordinates. That was until I found an N.C.R. uniform earlier… while you and those N.C.R. idiots partied like animals, I was able to steal one. You disturbed my rest, woman. I cannot traverse without sleep."

Cass felt bravery flowing through her lips. She hoped it was bravery. "Now that's all cleared up. I should probably leave. I have like twenty other doors to kick down before I find the right guy. So how about you move that knife and I'll be out of your hair?"

He cackled horribly. "So you can crawl away to General Wesker and Colonel Moore? That would compromise my position. I don't think so. You're making a fool of yourself by wasting your time with that courier fellow. If he isn't utterly uninterested in you, that petty strife you have with that strange woman of his will interfere with your ulterior motives."

"What the hell is it to you?!" she snapped.

"I'm a spy. It's my job."

"So… you gonna cut my throat any time soon?" she asked. "This is killing the mood. Cause if you are may I remind you that there is an entire Dam full of N.C.R. types, and if they find out that one of their heroes dead under their noses they'd be mighty pissed. Pissing off the general is a death sentence."

"I can handle General Wesker. I owe him a rematch."

"Is that before or after Boone sent you running? And before you get a hair up your ass may I also remind you that there a lot of surveillance cameras around the Dam. Hope you got a fast ride to Arizona."

The Legionary paused for a moment, genuinely considering his actions. "What guarantee do I have that you won't immediately call down the N.C.R.'s wrath? If there were any chance, I would let you out that is..."

"Uhm..." She was disappointed she had no collateral or anything to bargain with. Only her word and they were never good ones. "I swear on my… honour… to not turn you in?"

He chuckled morbidly. "Please… As the person who was ordered to keep an eye on Courier Six for several, excruciating months, ever since he wandered with the likes of you I was fully aware you had traded your honour for a lap dance at Gomorrah. If there was any dignity or honour in your name to start off with."

"Is that all you people do!?" she snapped again, "I might drink and fuck around, but I'm loyal to my friend's, and that's what's important Goddamn it."

"I'm loyal to Caesar," the Legion man grumbled.

"Really? For someone who lost a war, you don't seem so upset about it. I expected your types to live and die by the sword in the name of the mighty Caesar. No… You're here sleeping like a baby and looking for a way to stroll across the river whenever you feel like it." _Vodka, whiskey, this is Cass calling. Can you all please stop pissin' off the murderous fuckhead with a knife to your throat? Apart from drinking too much of you, why do you hate me so?_

"It's so funny that it's quite sad that you N.C.R. types think that the last battle was some great victory," he said, "We only lost a portion of our forces that day. Caesar lives, Lucius lives, I live. The only person of importance we lost during the battle was Lanius, who cared for nothing about the Legion or its ideals." While he rambled on and on Cass slithered ever so slowly near the edge of the bed. She needed to make a quick exit. The door wasn't far, like three meters.

"Since Lanius openly desired me," he continued, "he would most likely eliminate me if he was to rise to power. So forgive me if I don't shed a tear over his passing. There will be another legate, hopefully, someone more loyal to our cause. We control a significant fraction of the east, and we share a border with California. The Dam was a distraction; Shady Sands is another story. May set us back a few years. Am I happy we lost? No, I'm furious we lost, especially as it was due to your gang of incompetent morons with personal problems. But this won't change the result; nothing will."

"Fantastic," she sighed bitterly. "I really wanted to know your long-term strategy. I kicked down the door to be bored to death, and not because I wanted a threesome with a courier and a Dragonborn. So can we skip to the part where you kill me or let me go, or punish, or whatever you want to do? The last thing I want to do is yammer on about politics. Both sides can suck it dick, cause I'm done with politics. So kill me or let me go. I'm bored now."

Another pause. "Who killed Legate Lanius?" he asked quietly.

"I did," she giggled. "We all teamed up on him actually, but I was the one that finished Lanius off. Shotgun blast to the knees, chest and his ugly mug kills real good. Doesn't it? Shut his stupid as up. I have his helmet as a trophy at home. Still has his yellow blood on. Wanna see?"

"No. I suppose I owe you one." He sighed. "Very well. If I must, I can handcuff you to the sink and get some sleep and leave before the crack of dawn. Someone will find you eventually. Keep in mind if you scream for help, I will happily kill you and anyone else who enters the room."

"You can try… If General Wesker comes a-knocking, you're in trouble."

"I can manipulate that youthful curr."

"The same man that took on Lanius single-handedly?"

He choked. "I can outsmart his types. Now hush."

"Awesome. Just how I wanted to spend some precious hours. Sat here with you and not downstairs partying."

"Deal with it." He finally removed his serrated knife from her throat, and she let out a deep breath. What she wasn't prepared for was his arms wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She pressed up against him so hard she could feel his erection digging into her ass. "Of course, there is another option."

 _Hmm. The night was suddenly looking up,_ Cass thought with a slowly forming smile. _From what I see, he is pretty nice to stare at, and his voice is making my crotch wet. The vodka makes it a bit easier to overlook the fact he's an evil Legion motherfucker._

"After all," he continued, "You did come in here tonight looking for something. I've had a stressful day. And I once overheard you mentioning particular fantasy with your Brotherhood friend while you were five drinks in at ACES theatre." His voice dropped an octave. "Something about a Legionary punishing you about you profligate ways."

Cass made a mental note to never drink in public while horny. That had been a graphic amount of oversharing on her part, enough to horrify even Veronica, who had some creepy fantasies herself. Laser rifles were never meant to be used like that. She really was bi.

"I don't have a whip or a collar on me, but a belt can substitute for both." He would remember that part of Cass' fantasy at ACES, right before she downed her fourth whiskey with the guys. "Unfortunately, we'll have to skip the part where you blow up the Fort with a missile launcher. We can't have that now can we?"

"That ending was overrated anyway," she said, smiling and twisting around in his arms to kiss him.

Instead, he grabbed her hair and sharply yanked it to the side. "No kissing. Punishment, remember? I suspect your body is at least ninety per cent alcohol. I have a reputation to uphold, and if I stumble across the river drunk with an N.C.R. uniform on my existence would be void."

"Maybe if you guys took some time off and had a drink to relax once in a while, you'd be a bit chill about the destroy and conquer agenda." He sharply tugged her ponytail again. Her head jolted back. "Ow!" Cass knew she should've agreed on a safe word, then the idea of kicking him in the balls and escaping would be more satisfying if things were to get out of hand.

"So how did that fantasy of yours go?" he purred, stroking the hair red hair he yanked twice. The heavy breath of the Legionary fell upon her face.

 _He has a sweet face, as far as looks go. He had all the right parts in the right places. It's not fair how some of them looked so good on the outside yet were so evil on the inside. What was the name? Vulpes Inculta? That name needs to be remembered in case things go pear-shaped. That name could be ratted out for the right price if that was necessary._ She began, "Six, his bitch Lyannah and I were at the ACES theatre when one of those assassin squads ransacked the joint." Cass thought for a moment. "By the way, wasn't it you that sent that squad to attack the bosses at the Dam?"

"That is irrelevant. It is just an excellent way to cull the weak. General Wesker saw to that-"

"Before you retreated with your tail between your legs."

"Moving on. Back to your story, if you please."

"Caught us by total surprise. We all split in different directions. Six and Lyannah bolted quickly onto the Strip, and I got locked inside on my own from the outside. That's when one of the assassins pulled my hair back and threw me to the carpet."

He stroked and brushed her hair. "Hmmm… Did you go quietly?"

"Fuck no," she chuckled. "I'd bite and scratch my way out before they wrestle me down to put a collar on me."

Now he got his belt off so quickly it was a mystery to Cass, but within a quick second she was pinned to the bed beneath him, the belt lashed around her neck. It wasn't enough to stop her breathing but enough for her to feel it with every breath. "We like to put the collars tightly enough so that the slaves can feel it when they swallow," he said conversationally, "For a profligate enemy, we'd have to take it down a notch. Wouldn't want you to forget your place now." He pulled the belt one more notch tighter. "Too much," he whispered in her ear. He did care for her in his own way.

"Not enough," she whispered back, "I'm tougher than I look." She has a feeling this will leave a mark.

"Clearly," he dryly said. "What happened when they threw you down?"

"They tied me up." The room was feeling hot and humid. Heat radiated off Vulpes' bare body.

"Mmmm. Did they strip you first?"

"They will now," she said with great conviction.

"Yes, they will." His blue eyes were boring into Cass', and she noticed with some trepidation that he'd picked up the knife he'd threatened her with earlier. "I think that they would suggest you take off all your clothing. Slowly. Or they'd cut them off."

 _Hey, Cass, what happened to your favourite beige jacket?_ Cass thought in Veronica Santiego's voice. _Oh, nothing Veronica, just lost it in a creepy sex game._

"Then I suppose I'd just strip myself. Because if anyone tried to cut through my favourite jacket, they'd lose an eye. A good jacket is difficult to come by these days." Cass felt good leaving that threat there in the open. Vulpes retracted his knife.

Inculta sat back on his heels and gestured to the side of the bed. He sheathed his knife into his belt. "I'll spare your jacket. Undress, but… slowly."

Cass hopped off the bed and juggled the idea of running out of the door. That's what Six or her dead husband would want. Then again, she was having quite some fun in this scenario, and a single Legionary couldn't get away with shit in the middle of enemy territory. No one ever needed to know about this encounter. Will and Lyannah probably had their own fantasies to think about.

She shrugged off her precious jacket and chucked it into a corner by the door, then unbuttoned her white blouse. She was glad she decided she switched to her white bra and underwear before kicking the door, rather than the black combat bra. When she reached the belt, Vulpes held up his finger. "Give me the belt," he said, "Then continue."

Unlacing the brown boots, she kicked them off, then slowly slipped off her blue jeans down her thighs until they puddled around her ankles. She chucked him her belt. Now clad in her bra and panties, she stepped away and rested her hands on her hips. "Like what you see?"

"Stunning," he said, his gaze raking up and down her slim body. He was sitting up now, legs over the edge of the bed. "But disobedient. I said all your clothing." She went to unhook her bra. "Leave that on for now," he murmured. "I like it... Now back in ACES..."

"They'd tie my hands." She held her hands innocently.

"That they would. Behind your back, you couldn't attack anyone. Turn around." Wondering if this was going to end up backfiring horribly, Cass turned around and put her hands behind her back. He secured her hands with her brown belt. "They would blindfold you too, so that way you wouldn't know whether the footsteps you heard next were someone coming to rescue you or taking turns." She recognised the bandanna she wore before everything went dark. She blinked against the fabric.

"A sober woman might think you've done this before," she purred.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Not the slightest. What's next?"

"They would bring you to your knees." Cass knelt in front of him, obeying his command. "And they would keep you ready."

"Don't you fuckin' dare," she snapped. After some silence, he genuinely laughed. That was extremely rare and rather lovely. That wasn't right.

"Oh, only for a moment," he said with slight amusement, "Just long enough for you to start worrying about who was starting first. But now and then you would hear someone step forward."

"You?" she asked teasingly. "Or that guy with the beard? Which one would be first?"

He was surprised. "How do you know Lucius? He never leaves Caesar's side."

"I read a report about him. Well… I eavesdropped actually."

"You're all degenerates, but Lucius would take that as a compliment. As he has a wife and kids back in Flagstaff, I suppose he could use a boost to his ego now and then." He paused. "He couldn't be the type to partake in this scenario. He's too good for that. But not me..."

 _Men. Seriously…_ "After the first four whiskey sours, I could care less who comes first. We're getting off track. Let's say it's you that steps up first. What do you do?"

"Well, first, I'd stop to admire your body," he murmured. "Bound and on your knees before me. You'll hear me. You'll struggle. I'll have to hold you still." He stood up from the bed and brushed Cass' hair again. She felt his hair tangle in her locks as she wriggled slightly.

"Ooooh… What's next?" she purred. There were rustling noises in the background. She heard clothes dumping into a pile beside her. He was undressing. She was surprised to feel the belt around her neck loosen a few notches and then off completely.

"I'd remove the collar. You're not a slave; after all, you're a captive. A guest perhaps…" Cass felt his breath in her ear. "It's not like you're going anywhere," he whispered. "We both know you're soaking wet now."

 _Damn... he was right,_ she thought.

Cass wasn't sure whether he was referring to the reality or the fantasy. He was right about both, though. A hand slid between her legs and thighs, teasing her through her underwear before they were moved to one side. He pushed two fingers inside her, twisting them slightly, and her breath hitched in her dry throat.

"Just as I expected. Indeed a profligate whore. You must be punished."

She pulled away. "Wait a minute. Sexy punishment or nailed to a cross punishment?"

"Sexy punishment. I left all my nails and lumber at Cottonwood Cove."

 _Was that an actual joke?_ Cass thought. _Senses of humour were surgically removed when they joined the Legion. Guess not…_

"Forgive me. I get ahead of myself. First, I would have a more immediate need to satisfy."

"How about I satisfy you this way," she giggled. Her mouth was wide open. She swirled her tongue around her lips, seductively.

"Maybe," he drawled. "Would you, if I ordered you to?"

She ceased saturating her lips. "Not all the time. Honestly, I'd tell scum like you to suck a lemon. This is different; I'm in no position to say no, and I don't exactly want to."

"That you won't." He brushed Cass' hair over her ears and rubbed down her swan-like neck. Her skin was smooth for an alcoholic widow.

"You're stalling…" she mocked. "Are you really the one to step up first?" She licked and saturated her lips all over again. This time mockingly.

He leant over to her ear again. "Just for the record," he whispered, "you wanted this…"

Mmmmm. He tasted succulent and clean. He must've showered recently. It was a nice change. I swear some men need curative instructions or even a step-by-step guide to handle their junk, let alone someone else's. I ran my tongue over the head, giving a little extra to that particular part on the under the shaft. An answering groan from him informed me that he was no different from that respect. He was only human. I slid more of him into my mouth, and after that, I realised he was more than exceptional.

I pulled my head back. "Uhm. Problem."

Vulpes rubbed his chin with a smile. "Oh?"

"It's just… you're a bit bigger than I expected," I giggled. It was incredible. I could see it at all. Must be a unique sense. To perceive the size of cocks without the judgment of sight, how rubbish. Super speed? Strength? Nah, the ability to visualise the size of wood. Yes, please.

"Worry not. You set the pace." I decided to go for quality over quantity and gave his shaft a good seeing-to with my tongue and lips. His hand landed on my head, but instead of bringing me in closer like most guys, he stroked my hair again. Geez, what's his obsession with my hair? "You're such a good girl." I could take that as a compliment, but some close friends call me an N.C.R. woman, so being called a girl just felt degrading. I'll let it slide. At my age, I just like the attention.

"If we were at ACES," he continued, "I might have you do this a whole lot longer. I like a woman on her knees." I applied a bit of gentle junction, and he groaned. Removing his hard member from my mouth, I planted kisses down the side of his shaft "But not for too long. I believe your punishment for taking pleasure that wasn't yours should be much worse." His hand tightened around my ponytail. "And for working with the fucking N.C.R. to defeat us."

Bullocks. I should not have said that... This is getting dark. He sounded deadly serious and fairly angry. Despite what I said before, I wasn't so sure I can get my hands free. I tested my strength, and I was right. Damn, that was tight. He grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me onto my feet, then roughly dumped me face-down on the bed.

He must've felt me tense because the next thing I felt him rub my lower back. His touches were soft and gentle, for someone who kills and pillages for a living. "Relax. I won't hurt you." I willed myself to stop shaking, and almost succeeded when he slapped me, hard on the ass. "Much."

I yelped but then recoiled back towards him as he rubbed the stinging cheek. Was he the spanking type? Aw. He thought it was a punishment. Cute. "I believe we can go for a baker's dozen. Were this the ACES, of course, I would use my belt or a flogger. But the N.C.R. might get a little suspicious if they saw blood on the mattress. They'll start looking into who occupied this room tonight, and we can't have that now, can we?" He swatted my ass cheek again, hard, and I bit back a cry.

"There are a lot of things I would do in your little fantasy that you would find comfortable," he continued in a pleasant tone, pausing to hit me once more. "Or maybe you would. It's hard to tell with you degenerates. I advise you not to scream because if you draw the N.C.R. in here, you might just find out how dire your situation is."

 _Was that a threat?_ "You're almost over the line, Legion boy," I hissed. I silenced after I started counting the strikes. Never knew four spanks could sting so much.

"Good girl," he said, and I could hear the menace in his tone. He rubbed my wets, then slid his fingers in deeper. "Over the line was I? You're practically dripping. I can see how much that idea repulses you so. Think of that the next time you have some silly daydream about manipulating the Legion."

Well, what do you know? I feel like I can snap the belt if I was pissed enough. It turns out I was; it snapped like a bitch's neck. I started with the blindfold and glared at my supposed captor. I could run. I should run. I _will_ run. But my ego wouldn't let me go. I wasn't the one to let an asshole get the last word.

"Are we still doing the fantasy thing, or are we just exchanging threats? Because we're getting to the best part, the part before the big finale." I turned around and heaved him on his back over the bed. We switched places, and he was none the wiser.

"And what does that entail?" he said, eyes sparkling with a gleam of blue.

"The part where I rebel and turn the tables. To fuck you into working for the side of truth and goodness perhaps..." I raised my arms above my head and jiggled my hips. My panties slid down my thighs to my ankles. Baring it all below the waist.

"Do you think the N.C.R. stands for truth and goodness?" Christ, was this an automatic response or something? How many hours a day do they waste turning most vocabulary into a Legion recruitment speech? No wonder they have no time to relax over a stiff drink. "The corruption and degeneracy in Shady Sands alone would shock even a-"

"For the love of God," I blurted, straddling in front of him. "For all that is holy can you give politics a damned break? So help me I'm gonna stab your ass."

"So you'd make me submit?" he smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

"Hell yeah, I would. I'd snap the ropes like I did that belt, and then I'd tie yours. And we just happen to have a bed; that's a bonus. Either way, I'm in command now, and you're at my mercy."

"Would I?" He placed his hands on the headboard in mock surrender. "And then what would you do?"

"This." I trailed my tongue from his navel up to his chest, admiring his scars along the way. He shivered, and I felt his body stiffen further against me. "Awww, does the big bad Legionary have a sensitive spot?" I sucked the side of his neck until I felt his arms move, trying to pull me closer. Rearing back, I grabbed his wrists and pinned them back to the headboard, holding them back until the message was received. He folded his arms under his head and stared at back at me, curiously like a child. "Good boy. Now stay, or you won't get a treat." I slid off the bed and went straight to my vodka that was still on the nightstand. After a quick swig, it was almost all gone.

"Was that entirely necessary?"

"Do you want me to sober up and realise what a terrible idea all this was? I need to do this, which answers the question. Yes. Yes, it's necessary." I noticed a bullet wound on his left thigh. It was fresh, though had long stopped bleeding. Boone mentioned he hit a guy in the leg at the Dam that day. I felt pity… I poured the leftover vodka on a white rag from the floor and doused it.

The wet cloth that was totally not my white blouse was generously damp, and I firmly wiped over his thigh. I only knew basic first aid because it included the use of alcohol. A sterilising agent. Never forgot that. He hissed and cursed softly in another language; I think it was Latin. His body didn't budge; he took it well.

I discarded the empty bottle. "I don't know why I just freshened up your wound. Should be grateful but it was only because we're human, and I'm not a monster..."

I expected an argument, some stupid doctrine shit on how men are vastly superior to women, but instead, he reached out and pulled me down onto his face. Oh, yeah. I spaced out for a second. He was planning this, or he had experience in these situations. Within a minute, I stopped squirming, his mouth hot against my clit as he stretched me with two, then three fingers.

I considered leaping off the bed and smacking his handsome face for touching me without permission but… eh, rules were meant to be broken. They were too overrated. Happy to see he has other uses for his tongue than to talk people into joining the dark side, or boring them to death with politics.

He twisted his fingers just right, and my legs started to shake. I was entering the zone until he held my thighs and pushed me off on my back next to him. I glared at him. "You done?"

He smirked. "Oh, apologies. I saw your legs shaking, and I got the impression you were going to collapse due to the heroic amount of vodka you just downed. Being a gentleman, I grabbed you to keep you from losing your balance." His smirk went south into an evil grin. "Who's out of line now?"

"Maybe I should ask you to just handcuff me to the sink, like in your original idea, and wallow in a lonely bed of failure. I'm sure you might get a good catnap and not wake up repeatedly to me kicking the pipes out of boredom."

His eyes sparkled again. "I have other things I'd rather handcuff you to. I long to be entertained and, my dear, you have my interest."

I challenged him to try it because why the fuck not? It didn't surprise me when he had handcuffs under his damn pillow the whole time – why hadn't I thought of looking there when I had him on his back? He smiled and cuffed me to the shabby metal frame. I was a bit more careful after I thought about his small threat earlier, and while I couldn't snap the cuffs like the belt, the bed would come apart with a good solid kick. So that was my new emergency escape plan. That's if I wanted to leave.

"There you go," he snickered, looming over my face with his. "I like it better when you struggle." Melty voice plus kinky talk equals a sexually frustrated woman. That one being me. Deprived of the use of my hands, I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to pull him closer to me. "I thought your fantasy involved me changing my wicked ways. After all, you turned the tables on your captor and got a taste of the role reversal. People working for truth and goodness are not into this type of scenario, let alone cuffing people and fucking them in bed."

"Good and righteous is overrated anyway," I breathed. "Evil is sexier."

He pouted his lip. "You think I'm evil? Moi?"

"You're no saint. That's for sure. I'm sure all those tire fires and crucified people are just you working on your art portfolio. And those slave collars? That must be a phase of yours..." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I guess you're pretty evil. Handsomely evil, I must add. That's just the alcohol in me talking, so can we save this morality judgment until after we fuck? Unless you're all bluff and no action. Maybe if I call real loud some soldiers outside can come in to give you some pointers. Maybe one of them is willing to take advantage of poor little Rose of Sharon Wes-"

My breath caught in my throat as he eased his hand over my mouth, silencing me completely. Sheesh, lighten the fuck up. Just kidding, dude. Worst comes to worst; he would use me as a human hostage or shield if anyone came in. Felt nice, though, being able to lie back and have someone else do all the work.

After he had sat up fully seated over my waist, he let go of my mouth slowly. "Lighten the fuck up, dude. If I wanted to call in the killer cavalry, don't you think I would've done it earlier? We're both in a bit of a predicament here."

"You can never be too careful negotiating with the enemy," he said, moving slowly. "I am a strategist."

He flexed and inched his waist into position, and that's when everything started to feel… sensual. I felt like I was in heaven. My moans muffled. My hips were bouncing. My legs were trembling. To the slightest thrust, I felt it all. The head and shaft were slithering through my lips and up the walls. The tears in my eyes. He was hung. Minutes and minutes on end, I started to feel dizzy, and my eyes flushed.

The way he was looking at me, and about the room, I stared into his face quite a bit, more than I should, especially with those beautiful eyes. I got to thinking, he may be a slaving, murdering asshole, but damn the guy was hot. Every thrust was measured, every roll of the hips was calculated, and he made sure to grind me up a bit on every down stroke. My lips were quivering. He was quite a hunk, and that was so alluring. I felt like I could get used to this. A pet to play with now and then when days get rough. Six wouldn't like that. That makes the idea hotter. My legs relaxed around him for him to slide through.

I hated to admit it, but I whined when he moved his angle, leaning a bit closer forward. I depended on him to get me off, and while each thrust felt better than the last, they weren't enough to get the job done. Some more TLC was required. Legion boy was doing a bang-up job of building up the mojo.

"Right there," I breathed. "Right there, please..."

"Would that happen to be your sweet spot perhaps…?"

"Nnku… Ah, ah… nnaahh..."

"Take that as a yes."

"Oh, my Goooood…" I breathed again. Losing so much breath, "So, so good."

"Then this is going to get a bit better. Maybe if I push up like this, I can get in deeper." He changed his angle and leant further away and thrust deeper with a bit more force.

"Nnhiiiii… Ah! Nn, ohhhh..." I sighed blissfully. "That feels goooooood..."

"I thought so."

"Haaaa… Ahhhaaa… I think I'm gonna… cum… Touch me, please…"

"Orgasming this early is for the weak."

 _For fuck's sake._ "Are you kidding me?" I scrutinised him and then saw that mesmerising gleam in his eye again.

"Maybe a little," he admitted with a grin.

"Asshole."

Within a short moment, he was still thrusting into me, albeit a bit faster now. I was moaning; then they fell into quick panting. I was panting like a dog. I came shortly after and that didn't stop him. Fucking fantastic. Complete euphoria. My legs turned into jelly and fell on the bed relaxed. So out of breath. Inculta reached over me to unlock the cuffs. Nice to see a good level of trust in this lover. I let out a short yelp, of surprise when he rolled me on top of him.

"Damn Legionaries," I grumbled, lightly. I clutched the headboard and eased his dick slowly back inside of me. It was still nice and warm. "Making women do all the work," I breathed.

"Can you not appreciate the fact I have had a long day?" he groused. "I was fighting on the losing side of the battle, and I was wounded. Plus, I was generous enough to let you cum first. Give me a break."

"I'm playing the world's smallest violin." I ran my fingers down his chest with a free hand. He had some thick scars on his chest. One was fresh. I liked scars. "I suppose I could be more generous. 'Cause if our roles were somehow reversed, before the incident and you kicked my door down, I probably would've shot you."

"That would be your loss because you'd miss out dearly. As I so demonstrate, only as long as you keep moving like that." I rode him for a bit longer while he touched me. His touches were as soft as his thrusting. Then our pace built up. "My word… You're clenching as you go."

"Ahhh… It seems you've gone all the way in. Ah, that's good."

After some minutes, he eventually put his hands on my hips and moved me back slightly. "Pleasure yourself," he ordered.

"You expect me to do something so base? I'll consider it if you ask nicely."

"Please," he said, almost straining his voice. Happy to see he was human. I responded with a smile and carried on his order. With one hand squeezing my right breast, I rubbed my clit with the other. While grinding myself on him, I found I was enjoying my handiwork for a change. Shame it stopped after a minute before we carried on.

"Time we took things a bit faster."

"Meaning?" I purred.

"I am a man, you know. You think I'm gonna let you off that easily?"

He abruptly thrust into me; it was sharp and quick. "Damn! You were so bold..." I arched my back over him with my hands over his shoulders by the pillow. We stared into each other's eyes. Looked so much more appealing without that doghead helmet. Made the movements of his hip slamming into me all the much more satisfying. Gazing a mate in the eyes was something a woman craves.

"You pounding me that deep… drives me," I breathed. Those eyes. Those blue eyes… "Oh… Ohhhhh! You devil. You don't know how much I want to cum."

"You mean you're surrendering? You perform with so much merit and courage, yet you lose to just one man. Suppose everyone has their limits."

We slowed down a bit. The gyration of our hips made it hard for us to speak clearly. "Disappointed, are we?" I breathed.

"Not entirely," he strained through his crooked smile. "I am getting close when I think about it."

"Then my job is nearly done."

"Time for the last round. Is it not?"

"All or nothin'." Vulpes sped up and pounded my hips with his, slapping against me. "Oooh, ahhh, haah!"

After a few minutes, I was bucking on him like he was a wild stallion. He bit his lip and clutched my ass tight, with both hands the plunged me down on his hard member. I whined and slid my hands lower onto the wooden headboard, closer to him. "Fuck… me… Damn!" We started to kiss again. And again. Didn't slow down in the slightest.

We stopped kissing and carried on our fast pace. A few moments later, he slowed down and jerked. He thrust upwards into me and let out a strangled gasp for air. I ground into him. Then we keened in ecstasy. I hope he did; my reputation wasn't to be taken lightly.

I began to tremble. We groaned heavily. Something warm coursed inside of me. So deep inside of me… I collapsed onto his chest and hugged his head and shoulders. We had to take some time to regain our breaths.

After a few beats, he finally said, "That was adequate, woman."

"Adequate?" I scoffed.

"What do you want from me? A medal? My love?"

"Your admiration?"

"Maybe... Let's say I enjoyed this encounter, and it was most worthwhile."

"That'll do it nicely. Wouldn't have it any other way." I rolled off him. At the softest touch of the metal flooring, he grabbed me as he did earlier in the night. He tightened his arms around my waist, and before I knew it, I was back on top of him. I found it strange when he rested his head nestle in the crook of my neck. Were we cuddling now?

"Unless you want to spend the night handcuffed to the bed," he yawned, "you'd be wise to stay like this and sleep with me."

"Ready to go again? So soon?"

"You know what I mean, woman. You're not going anywhere until I make my leave. I don't fully trust you not to run off and sell me out to these N.C.R. dogs for some caps."

"You're worth more than a few caps, buddy."

"You flatter me."

"Looks like we're bunking. Great..." I should be pissed off to spend the night with an undesirable asshole like him and not be partying downstairs. Sleeping with a warm body felt nicer, it's been a long day, and it's time to put it to bed. So I wrapped my arms around his chest and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, we fucked again, in the same position we were sleeping. With me on top, starting slow and ending with speed that put last night's debauchery to shame. There was less talking that time. With the last few days spent at the bottom of a bottle, I assumed I'm going to hell for this, and when I do, I'm going all in and taking no bullshit. That's how a Cassidy goes out. Fame, glory and liquid courage.

After our second fucking, he was already dressed in NCR uniform as I took a few winks. I was thinking about getting some more sleep before I try to find Six and his bitch. Otherwise, I'd just end up sidetracked and in the bed of another potential lover. I was naked on the bed. It was warm enough this morning.

He stood by the closed door. "So, uh, thanks for not killing me, I guess," I said. More or less, the first words were spoken that wasn't vulgar or dirty - either of us, not just me.

"My pleasure," he responded crisply. "Perhaps we'll meet again in a better situation. Give us time to reflect on such an… enjoyable night maybe. We'll meet again in California, sooner or later."

"I'll be sure to keep myself busy until then, after all, someone's gotta revive my caravan business. If it was up to me, the next time we meet, I'd rather it have nothing to do with the Legion; they're bad for business."

"I won't hold it against you." He put on a helmet with thick goggles on. Apart from his strong chin and charming personality, the type that can rape a weak mind, he was almost unrecognisable. He didn't even look my way. "You never know. Taverns and bars are excellent places to pick up tips and gather information. Who else would I trust to fulfil fantasies of my own?"

"You trust me? That's new."

"But for me, I think it's time to lay low for a while and relax, take some time off. Then again, there's a savage tribe of women to the north, across the great plains. They raid settlements and capture men to breed with. Only the ones that survive the horrible, sensual torments beforehand."

I smiled. "You'd fight back. Wouldn't you hotshot?"

"Naturally. They won't take me without a fight."

At some point in our intimacy, I thought I could sway his wicked ways, in another universe maybe but not this one. Then there's profit in ratting him out for a few hundred caps, that could help me start up my caravan business. Then again, I could always use that as leverage or at the very least blackmail. This time I think he deserves my silence, and maybe a head start. We'll meet again; that's for sure.

"Adiós, Legion fuckhead," I said.

He was already at the door, about to leave. He turned his head and shown me his melty smile. "We'll meet again, profligate whore," he responded almost fondly.

What a jackass...


End file.
